The King's Daughter
by Preppygirl14
Summary: Vyolet Lannister had been brought to King's Landing to keep an eye on Sansa and Arya. But as Ned Stark starts to remove the past, things about her, things that seemed impossible, would be revealed. Maybe she's not a Lannister after all. Maybe she needs to get out there before it's too late. Set on Season 1.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The Lannister Spy

...

Vyolet Lannister was the fifteen years old daughter of lady Meralith Lannister and the late Rendal Lannister, nephew of Tywin Lannister, who had died ten years ago. Currently, she was on her way to Kings Landing, summoned by her aunt, Queen Cersei.

She didn't really understand why. According the queen she was anxious to see her niece after so many time apart from each other which was odd to say the least. From all her father's cousin, she had always had the feeling Cersei didn't care for her at all. Jamie was nice enough, Tyrion was funny and kind, but Cersei, she had never looked at her twice. Nevertheless, the queen had given a command and she had to obey.

The girl rested her face on her opened palm as she stared outside the carriage's window, watching the countryside.

"My lady, you should close the window or you'll catch a cold," Vyolet's handmaid warned her.

Vyolet turned to her pouting.

"The carriage is too stuffy, and my head was aching," she replied looking again outside the window.

Vyolet took of her ring and placing it on her palm. The girl stared at it, and the ring slowly, almost impreceptible, started to move from side to side until it stood moving above her hand, rocking from side to side.

"My lady, your mother warn you about doing that," her handmaid told Vyolet who sighed. The ring fell onto her hand, and she clutched it, looking outside again.

After an hour or so, she saw the walls of Kings Landing and smiled. It was about time.

* * *

The carriage didn't stop until it reached the Red Keep. And as soon the door was open a hand was offered to help her down and a royal steward bowed at her.

"Lady Vyolet, your grace is expecting you," he told her with a smile.

Vyolet nodded. She asked her handmaiden to see their stuff to their room as she followed the steward to her aunt's quarters.

"Your grace, Lady Vyolet Lannister," the steward announced before letting the girl entered.

Cersei had been sitting at a table drinking wine, and turned to her, forcing a bright smile.

"Vyolet darling," Cersei greeted her, raising from her chair, and opening her arms.

"Your grace," Vyolet replied, making a deep and perfect bow.

Cersei forced a sweet smile for her niece, and gave her a hug. It was awkward because the girl wasn't expecting it. The queen had never been too affectionate towards her.

"My, look at you. You are a true beauty," said Cersei, placing her hands on Vyolet shoulders and surveying her niece's appearance. "You're a woman now."

Vyolet smiled brightly.

"Thank you, your grace."

"You must have suitors right and left," said the queen slyly, her tone implying what she was really thinking, but Vyolet just shook her head.

"I-I wouldn't know," she replied properly.

Cersei scrunched up her nose lightly derisively. Her niece was just as plain and moron than Sansa Stark apparently. But Vyolet was indeed aware of her aunt's barely concealed dislike.

"Was your trip pleasant?" Cersei asked her, taking her by the arm and taking her to the chair next to the window, where she had been sitting with her son hours before.

"Very much, your grace," Vyolet replied politely.

"I'm sure you must be exhausted," Cersei nodded, in an understanding way. "But I wanted to talk to you before you'll retire."

"Of course, your grace."

Vyolet nodded. Cersei took her cup and sipped the wine before turning to her.

"I don't know if you have heard yet, but we have some special guests at Kings Landing," Cersei replied, her disdain growing deeper. "Ned Stark and his daughters."

"I didn't know, your grace," Vyolet replied earnestly.

"Ned Stark has been named the Hand of the King. My husband, the king is very fond of him," Cersei shook the wine in her cup before giving it another sip. So she didn't like at all the new hand, Vyolet noticed, but just nodded.

"He's a great warrior just like the king," she commented, wanting to see her aunt's reaction. She couldn't deny it without offending the king so Cersei just nodded, pursing her lips, displeased.

"Yes, he is. And his older daughter Sansa, is to be your cousin Joffrey's wife," Cersei continued. She didn't sound pleased by this either. "Sansa and her sister had never been to the capital before, and they must feel a bit lonely. I think it would be good if they had someone to show them around and talk to, and who better than the most beautiful and _brilliant_ girl in Casterly Rock."

Vyolet heard the subtle sarcasm in her voice but was careful to keep her smile in place.

"I'll be honored, your grace."

"Good. I'm sure you'll be great friends. Just like you and your cousins."

Vyolet nodded. She loved Myrcella and Tommen, but Joffrey was a different story.

"I'm sure, your grace. We are bound to be family after all," Vyolet smiled, delivering the blow carefully, watching her aunt's reaction. She almost flinched.

"Yes, we are bound to," she replied upset. Then looked up and forced her sweet smile again. "Well, I won't keep you from your beauty sleep."

Vyolet nodded and stood up, bowing to her.

"Your grace."

As she turned to leave, Vyolet's smile faded. She knew now why she had been summoned here, and she didn't like it one bit.

* * *

That night, after her old handmaid took off her hairpins and her corset off, Vyolet sat on her nightgown on a chair as the old woman combed her hair.

"Juline, did you know what the queen told my mother? Why she wanted me here?" The girl asked. She wanted to know if her trusted handmaiden had known since the beginning.

"I don't know, my lady," the woman replied.

"Are you sure? You know you have her absolutely trust."

"I'm sure," the old woman replied earnestly. "Her grace just said she wanted to spend time with her and your cousins. Why are you asking, my lady?"

Vyolet turned to the woman, pursing her lips.

"The queen wants me to spy the Stark girls for her."

"Did she said that?" The woman asked alarmed.

"No. But she did everything but spat it out," Vyolet replied bitterly. It never ended this absurd intrigue within the Lannister family.

"Her grace will have her reasons and your duty is with your queen and your family," said the old woman, a concealed warning on her voice.

Vyolet nodded.

"I know."

* * *

Vyolet got dressed and broke fast on her room. Then she was ready to befriend the Stark girls, as best as she could. She didn't understand really what Cersei could get from this. She didn't like Ned Stark, that was pretty obvious, but Vyolet couldn't see how knowing the whereabouts of two girls would be useful. Ned Stark wouldn certainly not be discussing his every thought with them.

As shedescended a staircase she saw a man walking through the corridor. He had a King's... armor and long shiny blond hair.

It was Jaime Lannister. Vyolet smiled, feeling her cheeks starting to blush and her heart starting to race. She knew it was wrong, but she couldn't help to have a crush on Jaime. How could she not? He was handsome. He was brave. He was kind.

"Uncle Jaime," the girl called him and the man turned a smile appearing on his lips.

"My, my, who do we have here?" He asked with a kind teasing smile.

"It's me, Vyolet," the girl replied in a playful manner.

"It can't be," said Jaime, faking surprise. "Why, my niece it's a scrawny little girl. Certainly not this beautiful lady I have in front of me."

Vyolet grinned brightly, her cheeks turning redder.

"I've always been beautiful," Vyolet replied, shrugging with a cheeky expression.

Jaime laughed.

"Oh, yes. There's the vain girl I know," Jaime smiled.

"I've missed you," Vyolet told him fondly.

"I've missed you too, child. How is your mother?"

Vyolet smile's faltered at the word child, but kept it in place.

"She's good. Wanted to come, says things in casterly Rock are duller than ever."

Jaimed chuckled and nodded.

"Yes, I imagined Meralith bores with too much tranquility."

Vyoletrolled her eyes and nodded.

"I was thinking," said the girl with her prettiest smile. She had received three marriage proposals using it. "Maybe we could go out and ride together for a while. I took your advice and change my riding instructor. I can easily leave you in the dust now."

Jamie smiled but quickly turned bitter.

"I can't, sweetheart," he replied upset. "I've been summounded by the king. Maybe another day?"

Vyolet was dissapointed, but she didn't let it show. Besides, by the looks of it, he didn't have a choice. The girl nodded.

"Sure."

Jaime smiled at her, thought bitterly and waving, he walked away. Vyolet didn't feel that bad. Jaime certainly looked upset. In her mind, he had really wanted to go riding with her. He had even called her sweetheart. And despite his teasing, he had noticed she was a woman now. And with that little flame of hope in her chest, the girl left two find the Stark girls. Cersei made think her niece was a moron, but she had gift for befriend even the most unlikely of allies.

* * *

Vyolet found Sansa, walking around the gardens with her handmaid. She knew she was Sansa because of her dress and because she looked around like it was a palace made of glass and gold.

"Lady Sansa?" Vyolet said, approaching the girl. Sansa turned around surprised.

"I am Lady Vyolet Lannister. Prince's Joffrey cousin."

Sansa made a small prim bow.

"Nice to meet you, my lady."

"I heard you have arrived and I just had to meet you," Vyolet told her with a kind smile. "After all, we're going to be cousins soon."

"Yes, I guess we will," Sansa replied with a tiny pleased smile.

So she did want to marry Joffrey. Vyolet guessed she hadn't had the oportunity to meet him yet.

"You haven't been to Kings Landing before, have you?" Vyolet asked her.

"No, I haven't. It's that too obvious?" Sansa said a bit embarrased.

"A bit. But you'll get used to it," Vyolet reassured her. "I remember the first time I got here. You feel like out of place. Like you just do silly strange things all the time, but everyone has been in that position, I assure you."

"Really?" Sansa asked her, her insecurities, starting to show.

Vyolet nodded, smiling sweetly.

"Don't worry," the brunette said, taking Sansa by the arm. "In a week or two, you'll feel like you were raised here."

"I wouldn't know how to do that," Sansa replied, looking down.

"I'll help you if you want," Vyolet shrugged. "I know everything about the Kings Landing fashion, the gossip..."

"Gossip?"

"Oh, yes," Vyolet gave her a sly smile. "That's the most important currency in the Red Keep, haven't you heard?"

"What kind of gossip?" Sansa asked curious.

Vyolet smiled at her and then turned nodding discretedly at a middle age lady passing by.

"That's Lady Hoyhigh, she huh, modified her nose," Vyolet told her in a whisper.

"Modified?" Sansa frowned confused.

"Had like a procedure of some kind to make it smaller. I heard it's really painful and it looks worse than before. Now it looks like a mushroom."

Sansa couldn't help but smile, and held back a chuckle.

"And that woman, Lady Garrett," Vyolet continued with a smile. "Her husband has a mistress in Dorn and bastard children. They say he actually loves them more than his own."

Sansa raised her eyebrows.

"I know," Vyolet nodded. "So you see, you shouldn't be embarrassed because you feel out of place. Just smiled at them. They tried to make me feel small, as well when I first came here. Then I learned all those charming little anecdotes and well, after reminding them once or twice now and them, they treat me very nice, indeed."

Sansa laughed.

"You're terrible."

"Thank you," said Vyolet cheekly. "Would you like to have tea with me and some of the girls? We'll be discussing Lady Ulla new lover. The girls said he's ten years younger than her."

"I'd love too," Sansa replied happily. She looked at Vyolet as if she were the queen herself.

Vyolet smiled and guided the girl to one of the tables in the garden. One down, she thought.

* * *

With Sansa eagerly wanting to be her best friend, Vyolet then looked for Arya. There weren't too many little girls in Kings Landing and Sansa had mentioned she was a wild type of girl. Vyolet figure she wouldn't too difficult to find.

And, indeed, as Vyolet turned around in a corridor, she saw a little girl in breeches, standing a top of a staircase with her arms extended, a leg up and a determined look on her face.

Vyolet couldn't help but smile.

"I thinks that's not very safe," she commented with a smile.

The girl a bit startled, tumbled back a few steps.

"I'm learning balance," Arya replied, lifting her chin.

Vyolet smiled wider, nodding.

"Balance for what?"

"For fighting," said Arya, as if darying Vyolet to say something against it.

"Did your father let you receive training?" Vyolet asked.

Arya nodded.

"That's very unusual."

Arya made a face.

"What would you like me to do instead? Learning how to sing and mop? How to dance?" She replied sarcastically.

Vyolet couldn't help but chuckled and crossed her arms.

"Well, fighting is a type of dance, isn't it? That's why they call them dancing masters."

"How do you know that?" Arya asked genuely surprised. This girl looked just as prim and proper as Sansa.

"My master taught me that," Vyolet shrugged.

"You know how to fight?" Arya frowned even more confused.

"Don't let the dress fool you. That's men's first mistake," Vyolet told her with a sly smirk and climbed the steps to where she was. She placed herself in the same position as Arya was, but she was standign straighter and more gracious.

"Balance... You must be swift as a deer. Quiet as a shadow. Quick as a snake. Calm as still water."

"My master told me that too," Arya replied excitedly.

"Is he from Braavos?" Vyolet guessed.

"He's the first sword of Braavos," Arya repeated proudly.

Vyolet smiled at her, putting her arms and leg down.

"Good, then you'll be one of the best, if you applied yourself."

"I will."

Vyolet couldn't help but chuckle.

"What's your name?"

"Arya. Arya Stark."

Her agressive and suspicious tone had dissapear, but not for long.

"I'm Vyolet Lannister, Arya."

Arya's smile faded, an angry look replacing it.

"You don't like the Lannisters," Vyolet guessed, amused.

"They're liars and cowards," Arya declared upset, waiting for Vyolet to be offended and threaten her.

Vyolet smirked.

"Yes. Not cowards, though," she replied amused by Arya's surprised. "There's not a lot of us you can coward so you must be talking about Joffrey. What did he do to you?"

Arya's surprise grew, but also her suspicion.

"How did you know Joffrey did something to me?" She asked her.

"He might be the prince, but he's a spoiled brat. And a cruel one."

Arya wholeheartedly agreed.

"He got killed my friend, Mycah, because my wolf attacked him," Arya replied between sad and angry, sitting down on the stairs. Vyolet sat next to her and listen to the whole story about the fight, resulting in Arya losing her wolf and Sansa's been killed.

Vyolet nodded when Arya finished telling her the story.

"That sounds like Joffrey. Last year, when he went to my home in Casterly Rock, he wanted to play a fun game with us," she told Arya, with a bitter sarcastic tone. "We had to stand on a blank of wood while he knock things out of our heads. It was just humilliating until he grabbed his bow. He got my brother in the arm with an arrow, and I know he did it unpurpose because he can actually aim."

"I'll get him," Arya assured her grimly and Vyolet smiled soflty.

"You remind me of my little sister, Hatlyn," she told Arya. "She said the same thing... but it's not wise."

Arya frowned indignantly.

"Joffrey..."

"I know he started it," Vyolet interrupted her. "I know is his fault, but Arya, if you start threatening the prince, what do you think will happen?"

Arya shrugged her arms.

"You could get yourself and your father into trouble," said Vyolet soflty.

"My father is the hand of the king," Arya shrugged.

"And Cersei is Joffrey's mother," replied Vyolet. "Believe me, you don't want her as an enemy. Even her own family knows that."

"You don't like your family," Arya observed, noticing Vyolet's bitter tone.

Vyolet sighed.

"I love my siblings, and my mother. But it's hard to love someone who's always plotting and betting against you, don't you think?"

Arya shrugged.

"My family supports each other."

"Than you are luckier than me," Vyolet assured her with a smile. "Come on. I'll let you keep with your training. Your master will know if you have not practiced."

She told Arya as she stood up and the little girl imitated her.

"Maybe we could train together," Arya suggested.

Vyolet smiled but shook her head slowly.

"I can't. It wouldn't be... proper. My mother stayed on Casterly Rock and here, I'm under the... protection of the queen. I don't think she'll aprove of me fighting," Vyolet made sure to purse her lips at the mention of the queen.

"I won't tell anyone," Arya assured her.

Vyolet chuckled and shook her head.

"Maybe for a while," she said after a pause. "Tomorrow?"

Arya nodded excitedly, and resumed her position.

"Remember chin up, back straight, arms high in the air," Vyolet said and Arya adjusted her position, smiling at Vyolet. She was like the older sister she always wanted, Arya thought.

As Vyolet left the girl alone, she knew she had just won her trust. She had accomplished what Cersei had wanted of her even before dawn, but Vyolet didn't feel proud of herself.

* * *

There was a joust the next day and everyone would be there. As a member of the Lannister and the cousin of the Prince, Vyolet place was with them on the secluded are above the rest, but she wouldn't get closer to the Stark girls that way.

She sat between Sansa an Arya. Their handmaid was on the other side of Arya, and Petyr Baelish, was on Sansa's right.

The girl kept turning her head to Joffrey but the boy was pissed and glared at her.

"Don't mind him," Vyolet told him, noticing her cousin's face.

"He hates me," Sansa replied sadly.

"He doesn't," Vyolet lied. "He's a guy. Just act like you're not aware of his presence. It works every time."

The king was drunk already. Nothing surprising there, Vyolet thought as he yelled: "I've been sitting here for days! Start the damn joust before I piss myself!"

As the joust started a giant in an armour and a on top of a horse, ride into the field.

"Gods, who's that?" Sansa asked.

"Ser Gregor Clegane," lord Baelish told her. Both Sansa and Vyolet turned to him, and he smiled enjoying their attention. "They call him the Mountain. The Hound's older brother."

"And his opponent?" Sansa said.

"Ser Hugh of the Vale. He was Jon Arryn's squire. Look how far he's come," Baelish said, a touch of sarcasm in his voice that Vyolet detected.

"Yes, yes, enough of the bloody pomp. Have at him!" The King yelled, annoyed.

Both knights rode to the end of the fields, and their respective squires armed them with a lance and their shields. Then their charged at each other but missed. They reached the end of the field and turned slowly, ready to go ahead once again. But this time, Ser Hugh wasn't so lucky. With a hard laungh, the Mountain's spear hit him, going through his throat and knocking him to the ground.

The crowd gasp in shock and horror. Vyolet even heard Sansa yel.l. Vyolet just watched the night died, choking on his blood.

"Not what you were expecting?" Baelish told Sansa as two men carried the body away. "Has anyone ever told you the story of the Mountain and the Hound?" Baelish whispered to the girls. "Lovely little tale of brotherly love."

They turned to watch the Hound, or Sandor Clegane, guarding loyaly the king.

"The Hound was just a pup, six years old maybe," Baelish started the tale. "Gregor a few years older, already a big lad, already getting a bit of a reputation. Some lucky boys just born with a talent for violence. One evening Gregor found his little brother playing with a toy by the fire, Gregor's toy, a wooden knight. Gregor never said a word, he just grabbed his brother by the scruff of his neck and shoved his face into the burning coals. Held him there while the boy screamed, while his face melted."

Vyolet frowned. She had heard rumors about the Hound and the mountain, but never knew the real story. And for all his lies, Littlefinger was being honest this time.

"There aren't very many people who know that story," he added.

"We won't tell anyone," Sansa replied anguished. "I promise."

"No, please don't. If the Hound so much as heard you mention it," Baelish looked up to Vyolet. "I'm afraid all the knights in King's Landing would not be able to save you."

* * *

That night, Cersei called on Vyolet. According to her aunt, she just wanted to chat with her niece, but Vyolet knew she wanted a report.

"Do you like the Stark girls?" Cersei asked her as she poured Vyolet a glass of wine. She had tried to refuse, but her autn had insisted not very subtle.

"They're very nice, your grace," Vyolet replied with a smile.

"The little one, she's a bit _wild_ ," Cersei said, sitting in front of the girl. There was a very clear disdain in her voice.

"I'm sure it's just the age," Vyolet smootly replied. "But she can be sweet."

"Really?" Cersei forced a smile but just looked murderous. "Did she tell you about the incident with her wolf?"

Vyolet knew she couldn't lie.

"Yes, your grace."

"She called Joffrey and myself liars. What do you think about that?" Cersei raised her glass and watched her niece as she sipped her wine.

"You're not a liar, your grace, but small children often are," Vyolet replied.

Cersei pursed her lips. And Vyolet smiled to herself. That question had been a trap by Cersei and she had just avoided it.

"Her father dared to challenge me in front of my husband," Cersei continued, waiting for Vyolet's answer.

"Your grace is very protective of her children, rightfully so," Vyolet replied taking a very small sip of wine. "Perhaps Lord Stark was doing the same. Even if he was in the wrong."

Cersei looked at her niece now. She looked and acted like a perfect lady, but she had dodged all of Cersei's trick questions. Once may be luck, but she had managed to turn the conversation around. She was defending Ned Stark without giving him the reason. Cersei had been wrong about her. She may act like a moron, but certainly, her moves were calculated. Vyolet had more Lannister in her than appeared. This posed a problem because now it would be harder to manipulate her and extract information out of her. Her niece would tell her what she wanted to hear, whether it was useful or not.

* * *

The next day, Vyolet woke up at the same hour than yesterday, hoping to catch her uncle and convince him to ride with her, but intead, she found his cousin. She had tried to dodge Joffrey but he wasn't having it. He was with Myrcella and tommen as well and neither looked like they wanted to follow Joffrey.

He took them to the kitchen, carrying his crossbow and told them he wanted to play a game.

"What sort of game cousin?" Vyolett asked reluctantly. She didn't want to be shot in the arm.

"A very fun one, cousin," Joffrey drawled. "You'll be very amused."

Vyolet hightly doubted that.

He placed his brother against a wall and placed a large bowl on his head. Both Myrcella and Vyolet watched with horror as Joffrey raised his crossbow to Tommen's head.

"Don't move if you don't want to die," he cruelly threaten his little brother. And then shot.

Vyolett breathed a sigh of relief as the arrow hit the bowl breaking it and hit the wall behind Tommen.

"You have wonderful aim, cousin," Vyolet forcefully congratulated Joffrey even if she actually wanted to slap him.

"Now you," Joffrey told her with a sardonic smile.

"I preferred to watch," Vyolet replied with a sweet smile. "You are so wonderful with that bow."

"I said, now you!" Joffrey yelled angrily.

Vyolet didn't want to give him more reasons to shoot her so she grabbed a bowl, placed it on her head and faced Joffrey. The brat raised the bow.

Calm as still water, Vyolet though not wanting to show Joffrey fear.

Joffrey smirked and then shot. He didn't hit the bowl, but a barrel on a high shelve above the girl. Vyolet moved startled and the bowl fell crashing just as ale escaped from the barrel and fell onto her head.

The girl yelped and moved away.

"Don't, grab another bowl!" Joffrey ordered her.

Vyolet clenched her teeth, grabbing another and standing in the same position, as the ale fell onto her head again, filling the bowl. Joffrey put another arrow in his crossbow and lifted it. He shot again.

The arrow again, didn't hit the bowl but a sack of flour. Vyolet again dropped the bowl, startled and this time flour fell onto her adhering to her head and face beacuse of the ale.

Joffrey laughed looking at his siblings which looked terrified.

...

Vyolet walked to her room, feeling enraged and humiliated She had changed her mind. She didn't dislike Joffrey, she hated him, and the worst part was she could do absolutely nothing about it. She knew Cersei. She was vindictive and wouldn't accept a bad word against her children, even if he deserved it. Vyolet sneezed again, a product of the disgusting things Joffrey had poured on her and kept walking faster.

Just then, she crossed paths with Ned Stark. She blushed, embarrassed by her state, but he looked shocked. Genuinely shocked. Vyolet blushed. She didn't think she looked that bad. Then, his hand grabbed her wrist and she turned to him surprised.

Then the man was looking at the girl as she were a ghost. Vyolet didn't understand, but she couldn't see what he was seeing. She didn't see that her hair covered in that substance and flour made her hair looked white and that she resembled a man Ned had known. A madman. But how...?

Ned came out of his revery to notice Vyolet's startled and almost scared face. The man released her and bowed, a bit ashamed.

"Excuse me, my lady," he apologized quickly before walking away.

Vyolet watched the man until he was gone, confused. He had looked just as scared and confused as she was. Why? The girl shook her head and walked away.

The girl didn't notice someone else watching. Cersei looked from the balcony at the girl with a frown and a more tame expression than Ned but surprised nonetheless. She had seen too the resemblance. Cersei though her niece was a moron but she was very glad the girl was on Kings Landing, and under her thumb.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Betrayals and Plots

...

Vyolet closed her eyes as she sighed, soaking on the hot water. Her handmaid had just clean her hair out of ale and flour and let her mistress to finish her bath. The girl was still confused by Ned Stark odd behavior. She was sure he didn't put that face because she was in covered in flour, so why then?

The girl hurried to get dried and put on a clean dress. There was to be a joust in just a couple of hours and she was already late to catch Sansa or Arya breaking fast.

Her handmaid helped her dress, drying her hair as much as she could, and then Vyolet rushed to the joust. As she sat next to Sansa at her insistence, she avoided Joffrey's satisfied smirk. The jerk, Vyolet fumed.

After a few moments Ned Stark joined them, sitting on the other side of Sansa. Vyolet could swore lord Stark was glancing at her.

"Where's Arya?" Stark asked his daughter.

"At her dancing lessons," Sansa replied derisively.

Then, the horn was rung and a knight in a literally shining armor appear on one side of the field. It was ser Loras Tyrell.

"The Knight of the Flowers," said Sansa love-struck and Vyolet repressed a smile. She couldn't blame Sansa. Ser Loras was really handsome. He looked like an actual prince charming. Vyolet herself had had a big crush on him a year ago or so. That was it, until she learned he didn't like women. But Vyolet still enjoyed his company. He was funny, charming and kind.

Ser Loras rode to where they were, holding a red rose and handed it to Sansa.

"Thank you, Ser Loras," Sansa replied sweetly.

Vyolet caught his eye and rose an eyebrow. Loras gave her a sly smile and rode to face the king.

He started the joust and both Loras and the Mountain rode to the end of the field.

"Don't let Ser Gregor hurt him," Sansa asked her father desperately. "I can't watch."

"He's going to die," Sansa said worriedly.

"Ser Loras rides well," her father consoled him.

Vyolet nodded.

"He's one of the best jousters in the seven kingdoms," Vyolet assured her, but she was a bit worried herself. The Mountain was a brute and sadistic man, everybody knew that.

The joust started. Ser Loras and the Mountain charged at each other. But Loras' spade hit the Mountain shield, destroying it and knocking him off his horse.

Prince Renly stood up cheering loudly.

"See, everything's fine," Vyolet reassured Sansa.

"He's the best," Sansa smiled, watching Loras.

Vyolet nodded.

"Loras knew his mare was in heat," Baelish told the Starks and Vyolet, leaning to them with a smile. "Quite crafty, really."

"Ser Loras would never do that," Sansa declared upset. "There's no honor in tricks."

"No honor and quite a bit of gold," Baelish replied slyly.

The Mountain stood up grabbing his horse. He was furious.

"Sword!"He yelled and his squire quickly broguht it, as Loras was still riding around, bowing at the cheers and the king.

But the happy excitment was cut short by the Mountain, suddenly decapitating his horse. The crowd gasped and more when he stomped to an unaware Loras.

"Loras!" Vyolet called him and as the man turned, the Mountain knocked him down his horse with a struck.

The Mountain didn't hold back, attacking Loras as he was down, protecting himself with his shield.

The Hound quickly drew his sword and intervened just as Loras shield broke in two.

"Leave him be!" The Hound said as he started fighting his brother, Loras quickly moving out of the way.

Both men fought brutally. If they had been another, they would have already lost their head.

"Stop this madness in the name of your king!" King Robert shouting, standing up.

The Hound fell to his knee immediately while avoiding a swing to his head.

The Mountain, however, glared at Robert, throwing his sword to the ground and stomping away.

"Let him go!" Robert said the guards.

Loras took off his helmet and approached the Hound who had just stood up.

"I owe you my life, ser," he told the Hound gratefully.

"I'm not ser," the Hound replied, gruffly, but Loras grabbed his hand and held in the air. The crowd started to cheer. Vyolet clapped as well, smiling at Loras, but noticing the Hound's overwhelmed face. He looked almost shy, the girl thought, fascinated.

Everyone feared the Clegane brothers, but maybe there was a bit more to Sandor. Vyolet clapped louder, smiling. Sandor did deserve the cheers.

* * *

Vyolet found Arya as she was finishing her lessons with Syrio Forel. The man was gone already, but Arya kept practicing her swings.

"I yield," Vyolet told her with a smile, raising her hands in the air.

Arya turned and smiled.

"I told Syrio you would help me practice," she told Vyolet excitedly.

Vyolet smiled.

"And what did he say?"

"That that would be like the blind dancing with the blind," Arya replied, not wanting to offend her but Vyolet just laughed.

"I imagined the first sword of Braavos saying that about any student of someone else," Vyolet smiled.

"So you would help me?" Arya asked excitedly.

"Right now?" Vyolet frowned, but Arya had already gone to fetch a second wood sword.

Vyolet took it and smiled. Before starting she went to a niche in the wall and took off her rings and headpiece carefully. Then, she pulled a ribbon out of her pocket and tied her hair in a ponytail.

"Alright," told Arya grabbing the sword.

Arya took her position but frowned.

"Don't you want to change? You won't be able to move in your dress."

"I learn to fight in my dresses," Vyolet replied, raising an eyebrow. "My master once told me, 'if you need to defend yourself you'll be wearing a dress, or your enemy would allow you change into practicing breeches?'"

Arya frowned.

"Isn't it more difficult?"

Vyolet nodded, laughing.

"And more impractical too, but that's women's problems for you in a nutshell."

Arya couldn't smile back.

"Come on!" Vyolet nodded at Arya so she could get in place. "Ready?"

Both girls raised their swords and began practicing.

Arya was genuinely impressed with Vyolet now. She was so good. Not as Syrio, of course, but she couldn't understand how she could move so fast and with a bloody dress. And a dress whose skirts were too loose and too twirly.

Vyolet didn't let Arya win, but didn't come after her full force, and gave her tips while they fought. After and hour or so, both girls were exhausted. Vyolet sat with Arya on the floor as they drank water and took deep breaths.

"You're actually good!" Arya told her, excitedly.

"Thank you," Vyolet replied sarcastically. "Though I'll ignore the surprised tone."

Arya laughed.

"You're getting good too," Vyolet continued, fanning herself.

"You defeated me every time!" Arya shook her head, a bit disappointed.

"You can't expect to be good on the first try," Vyolet told her kindly. "But as long as you work hard, you'll notice the difference."

Arya nodded and then she stood up, walking to the door.

"Where are you going now, Arya?" Vyolet asked her.

"I need to catch a cat," Arya shrugged and Vyolet frowned confused.

"What?"

"Syrio's orders. Need to be swift as a cat," the girl replied, happy to keep going.

Vyolet shook her head and smiled.

"Of course you do."

* * *

"How is your son, my lord?" Varys asked Ned Stark.

"He'll never walk again," Stark replied, sitting at his desk, writing a letter.

"But his mind is sound?" Varys said while pacing around Stark's office.

"So they say," Stark replied a bit curtly, not wanting to discuss his son's life with 'the spider'.

"A blessing, then."

Ned looked up at this, a bit upset.

"I suffered an early mutilation myself," Varys explained. "Some doors close forever," he said while walking to the office's door and closing it, "while others open in most unexpected places. May I?"

He didn't wait for a reply and sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. Lord Stark put his pen down and looked at Varys with a mix of distrust and expectancy.

"If the wrong ears heard what I'm about to tell you, off comes my head," Varys explained almost in a whisper. He more than anyone knows, walls could talk in the Red Keep. "And who would mourn poor Varys then? North or South, they sing no songs for spiders. But there are things you must know. You are the King's Hand and the king is a fool-your friend, I know, but a fool-and doomed unless you save him."

"I've been in the capital a month," Ned replied suspiciously. "Why have you waited so long to tell me this?"

"I didn't trust you," Varys shrugged.

"So why do you trust me now?" Ned asked.

"The queen is not the only one who has been watching you closely," Varys gave him a look and a small smile. "There are few men of honor in the capital. You are one of them. I would like to believe I am another, strange as that may seem."

"What sort of doom does the king face?" Stark asked, this time intrigued.

"The same sort as Jon Arryn," said Varys. "The tears of lys, they call it. A rare and costly thing, as clear and tasteless as water. It leaves no trace."

"Who gave it to him?"

"Some dear friend, no doubt," Varys smiled sarcastically. "But which one? There were many. Lord Arryn was a kind and trusting man. There was one boy. All he was he owed to Jon Arryn."

Lord Stark frowned at the implication.

"The squire, Ser Hugh?"

"Pity, what happened to him, just when his life seemed to be going so nicely," Varys commented, sarcastically.

"If Ser Hugh poisoned him who paid Ser Hugh?" Ned started to reason.

"Someone who could afford it," Varys shrugged.

"Jon was a man of peace," Ned told Varys. "He was Hand for seventeen years. Why kill him?"

Varys leaned over the desk and gave Ned a look.

"He started asking questions."

They exchanged a gloom stare, understanding downing in Ned about what really was going on inside this castle.

"And speaking of questions," Varys continued, "there's another thing, my lord. You had noticed the presence of Vyolet Lannister as I imagine."

Ned frowned. What Vyolet Lannister had to do with Jon Arryn?"

"What about Vyolet Lannister?"

"Some little birds have informed me that some people had noticed her reassemble with a past ruler. The mad king." Varys added the last part in a whisper.

Stark shook his head, dismissing the idea.

"I think I saw it too, but it's impossible. The Targaryen had all silver hair."

Varys nodded.

"Yes. The legitimate Targaryen has silver hair," he pointed out. "But I've wondered... Do you know Vyolet's mother, Meralith, served the court of Aerys?"

Ned nodded.

"Some say she was friends with his wife, Rhaella, and the king. Perhaps Aerys took a fancy with her," Varys shrugged. "It wouldn't be the first time and Meralith was such a beauty back then... And if a Lannister conceived a child with a Targeryan, well, the child may not have silver hair at all."

Ned looked at Varys considered what he was saying.

"I'm sure you are aware of the hatred King Robert has for Targeryans. If someone would suggest, if they showed a possibility of this being true, the child may be in danger," Varys told him, looking visibly upset.

"Do you want to help her?" Ned asked surprised. "Why?"

"I have no love for the Targaryans, but Vyolet is a sweet girl. I know her since she was little and has a good heart and mind. She doesn't deserve to be butchered. Wouldn't you agree, my lord?"

* * *

After Ned talked to Varys, he had a pretty busy day. First of all, they had found Arya, outside the castle. Then he received news about his wife abducting Tyrion Lannister of all people, and now Robert had received some very bad news about Daenerys Targaryan.

"The whore is pregnant!" Robert hollered out of himself. He was drunk and angry. A pretty bad combination on the king.

"You're speaking of murdering a child!" Ned snapped back, but Robert was not having it.

"I warned you this would happen, back in the North. I warned you, but you didn't care to hear. Well, hear it now. I want them dead, mother and child both. And that fool Viserys as well. Is that plain enough for you?" Robert told his friend angrily. "I want them both dead."

"You will dishonor yourself forever if you do this," Ned warned him.

"Honor?!" Robert shouted. "I've got seven kingdoms to rule! One king, seven kingdoms! Do you think honor keeps them in line?! Do you think it's honor that's keeping the peace? It's fear, fear and blood!"

"Then we're no better than the Mad King," Stark declared boldly.

"Careful, Ned. Careful now," Robert warned him.

"You want to assassinate a girl because the spider heard a rumor?" Stark said.

But no matter what Ned argued, Robert just shouted back Daenerys had to die. And Ned wondered if he acted like that, with a girl leaving across the sea, what would his friend do to a girl suspected to be a Targaryen living under his roof?

Ned heard the terrible thoughts of the Council, but he couldn't do it. He couldn't do this cruel thing.

"I followed you into war, twice, without doubts, without second thoughts," Ned reminded Robert. "But I will not follow you now. The Robert I grew up with didn't tremble at the shadow of an unborn child."

"She dies," Robert declared unyielding.

"I will have no part in it."

"You're the King's Hand, Lord Stark," Robert said angrily. "You'll do as I command or I'll find me a Hand who will."

It was supposed to place Ned in his place, but he just took off the tiny iron hand and dropped it on the table.

"And good luck to him. I thought you were a better man," he told Robert, disappointment.

The king stood up enraged.

"Out. Out, damn you. I'm done with you!" He shouted as Stark left "Go, run back to Winterfell! I'll have your head on a spike! I'll put it there myself, you fool! You think you're too good for this? Too proud and honorable? This is a war!"

As Ned crossed the throne room a desperate idea crossed his mind. He would have to take Vyolet with him and his daughters. It was the only way she could be protected from the King and her family.

* * *

As Vyolet's handmaid was brushing her hair there was knock on the door. The old lady left the brush on the table and went to open the door.

A boy, probably around her age stepped in.

"My lady, your grace and ser Jamie ask you to join them in the queen chambers," the boy announced.

Vyolet couldn't help but smile. Ser Jamie? She stood up and looked at her handmaid.

"Esthis, can you fetch my sapphire headpiece please?"

The old woman bowed her head, and walked out of the room, to her mistress' jewelry box. Vyolet, in the meantime, walked to her mirror and pinched her cheeks making sure they were rosy enough.

"You're very beautiful already, my lady."

Vyolet turned around startled, forgetting the boy was still there. She looked at him frowning and noticed that he was a handsome boy. He resembled ser Loras but in roguish kind of way. The girl was speechless for a moment and the boy couldn't help but smirk, noticing her blush.

At the sight of his smile, Vyolet cleared her throat and raised her chin, trying to regain her poise.

"What's your name?"

"Ellion Coldrin, mi lady," the boy bowed his head, his smirk still in it.

"Ellion Coldrion, that's how you address the ladies you serve?" Vyolet asked coldly, annoyed by his smile.

"I meant no disrespect, mi lady," the boy apologized. "It's the truth. Though I believed you were kind and gentle. Obviously, I must have misheard a rumor."

"I am kind or gentle or you've been flogged right now for that comment," Vyolet replied, blushing even more.

Ellion's answer was just a bow with his head.

"Mi lady."

Esthis entered the room that moment, handling Vyolet the headpiece. She put it in her head with a bit more of force than necessary and left her room, her head held high, Ellion's eyes following her.

* * *

Cersei was fuming after the king had stuck her and dismiss her. Who thinks he was? That old drunk fool. Good thing he was dying sooner than later.

"What he did to you?" Jamie asked her, as he entered her room watching her already downing her anger in wine.

"He went to see that fool Stark. He slapped me and threw me out as one of his whores," Cersei spat furiously. "I am the queen. He should be treating me like one!"

Cersei anger was causing her to be a bit too loud. In fact, her niece Vyolet just stopped outside the door, hearing her rant. Her aunt had summoned her to her rooms and seeing Jamie was going to be there as well, Vyolet rushed to meet them, but she wasn't so sure she wanted to bother Cersei right now. So she just stood outside, waiting for them to finish or for the queen to cool down.

"What did Stark tell him?" Jamie asked her a bit uneasy. After all, he had slaughtered Stark men at his sister's request.

"He told Robert you attacked him," Cersei shrugged, angrily.

"That's great, Cersei. I told you it was a bad idea," Jamie spat angrily.

"I defended you!" Cersei rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, that was before or after he slapped you?" Jamie said sarcastically. "The king is his friend. Whose side do you think he is going to take when Strak tells him I slaughtered his men?"

Vyolet opened her eyes shocked. She could believe Cersei had Lord Stark men killed, but her uncle Jamie? He was honorable and kind... how? Why?

"I told you we should have left Stark alone," Jamie fumed.

"He knows about Joffrey," Cersei snapped. "He knows about us. He was going to tell Robert!"

"He still can."

"Robert is still angry with him, but he still is the Hand of the King," Cersei told him, going to her desk and pulled a piece of parchment and a quill. "We need to act right now before that drunk realizes anything."

"The king could have an unfortunate accident. He still is going for a hunt tomorrow, isn't he?" Jamie asked his sister.

Cersei nodded.

"And he's taking... what is the boy's name? Ulrick, Charles...?"

"Who cares?" Cersei interrupted him, as she started writing. "He'll just have to make sure, Robert keeps drinking."

"Not that's is that hard to accomplish," said Jamie sarcastically.

"Once the drunk is dead, Joffrey would be king."

"And Stark's daughter a queen," Jamie replied.

"Joffrey is not going to marry Sansa," Cersei replied matter-of-factly.

"The king gave his permission," Jamie reminded her.

Cersei shrugged.

"Once the king is dead, he won't have a say on this."

"It is still a good alliance," Jamie said. "That's what father said. We need the North."

"Yes, but if we marry or dear Vyolet to Joffrey, the crown would stay within our family," Cersei smirk.

"Vyolet?" Jamie frowned.

"Yes, she's smart enough to handle Joffrey," Cersei shrugged. "Joffrey will be kind to her cousin."

"That's what you think?" Jamie asked sarcastically. He loved his children, but Joffrey... well, he knew Joffrey.

"She's smarter than Sansa," said Cersei. "And Sansa is so bleak and stupid, she'll throw herself out of the tower within a month of marriage. And we can always marry her to Tommen. That way we keep the North without giving the Starks a crown."

"Vyolet's mother would never consent for her to marry Joffrey," Jamie told his sister. "Meralith doesn't like him and is not afraid to stand up to our father."

"Yes, but she won't have an option if she wants to keep her daughter safe," Cersei replied, looking at his brother with a sardonic smile.

Jamie watched her confused.

"Have you noticed how much Vyolet reassembles the mad king now that's grown?" Cersei asked him.

Jamie's frown deepened, taken aback.

"What?"

Cersei nodded.

"She just smiles like an idiot to you, but when she's not, she does have a Targaryen look on her."

"That's not possible," Jamie shook his head.

"Meralith served in the Mad King's court just like you Jamie," said Cersei. "In fact, it was you the one saying they had something else going on."

"I said the king may have... abused her," said Jamie angrily.

Cersei shrugged, not caring at all about the implications.

"That's still can result in a child. And if word goes out to the people who suffered under the Mad King's reign, that a surviving Targaryen is well and living in court..."

"She would be murdered," Jamie finished, horrified.

Cersei smirked, folding the letter she had wrote, and showed it to Jamie.

"I'm sending a letter to his mother right now. I expect she won't oppose to the idea of our children marrying."

* * *

Vyolet didn't know how she left the staircase leading to the queen's room with anybody finding out. Actually, she barely registered she had entered her room. She sat on a chair next to the fire, her mind spinning out of control, the floor breaking beneath her. All that information swarming her mind. First, it was the painful awakening of what her uncle Jamie really was. There was a reason he was called the Kingslayer. Vyolet had always found it unfair to him, to diminish such kind man, but now she knew. He was as bad as Cersei. And she had been blind to it all this time. Blind to that fact as to what was really wrong to her. She had wondered from time to time why she could do the things she did, or why she didn't resemble her mother or her father much. Vyolet didn't have the green eyes of the Lannisters, nor the clear blue of the Tullys. The blue of her eyes was paler, almost looking like ice. And she may have dark hair like her mother, but that's where the resemble ended. Was she really the daughter of the mad king? Was she really the product of her mother's violation? If she was, Vyolet couldn't imagine why her mother loved her so much. She would never be able to love the child of a rape. And now, Cersei planned to use that information against her mother. Vyolet closed her fists so tightly it almost pierced her skin with her own nails. That horrible woman, that bitch... She was not only threatening her mother but forcing her to marry Joffrey... Joffrey! From all the men in the world, Joffrey wouldn't even be an option to consider as a husband. Cersei had worried Sansa would throw herself from a tower after marrying Joffrey, and she was right, Vyolet wouldn't do that. Vyolet would throw Joffrey instead.

Vyolet's murderous thoughts were cut short by a knock on the door. Her handmaid opened the door and a steward entered the room, bowing to her. She had never seen that man before.

"Lady Vyola, Lord Stark wonders if he could have a word with you? He's in the Hand's Office," the man informed her and it was as if a light had turned on in the girl's head. Lord Stark, of course. He was the only honorable man in this whole city. Maybe there was a way out.

"Of course," the girl nodded and stood up. But just as she was about to leave her room Cersei entered. She dismissed both the boy and Esthis.

"Your grace," Vyolet made a perfect bow, controlling her face to be as calm and happy as possible, even if her blood was boiling at the sight of the queen.

"Vyolet, dear, where are you going?" Cersei asked her, her sweetness covering venom not very successfully.

"Lord Stark, summoned me," said the girl.

"What for?"

"I don't know, your grace," Vyolet replied innocently.

Cersei's smile disappeared and a threatening more natural look to her appeared.

"Lord Stark is conspiring against me and our house, Vyolet dear," the queen spat. "Did you know that?"

"No, your grace," Vyolet made sure her face reflected the appropriate amount of shock.

"He's a traitor who would use any piece of information you give him," Cersei continued ruthlessly. "He would come after you. After your dear old handmaid, after your mother. So think very carefully about what you told him, alright dear?"

She was indeed. Vyolet doubt Stark would go after her family, but not the queen.

"Yes, your grace," Vyolet bowed.

* * *

Ned Stark was answering a letter from Winterfell when someone knocked at his door. He put his quill down and his steward and Vyolet Lannister, appeared on the threshold.

"Lord Stark?" The girl bowed her head politely.

The man stood up immediately.

"Lady Vyolet, please sit," he asked her, pulling one of the chairs in front of his desk. Vyolet sat as Stark went to closed the door of his office. The girl noticed his cane and his limping, and she realized Jamie had done that to him.

"Are you alright, my lord?" Vyolet asked him.

The man nodded.

"I am getting better," he replied.

"I'm glad."

Ned walked around his desk but didn't sit. Vyolet realized whatever he was going to tell her, may not be so pleasant for her.

"Both my daughters are very fond of you, lady Vyolet," said the man, his voice harder than usual. "Actually, I'm pretty sure both idolize you by now."

Vyolet smiled lightly.

"They're sweet girls."

And it was true. Despite her intentions to be near to them, she liked both Sansa and Arya.

"They are, and I will protect them against anyone trying to harm them," the man replied, frowning. Vyolet recognized the threat immediately, but she was done playing Cersei's games.

"As any loving father should. They're fortunate to have you," the girl replied earnestly.

Ned frowned upset. Vyolet sounded honest, but he knew his share of Lannister to know she could be easily lying.

"You are good Lady Vyolet, but many Lannisters are," Stark replied coldly. "Lying, manipulating, did the queen send you to spy my girls?"

"Yes."

Stark was taken aback by her response. He expected her to deny it.

"What?"

"She did," Vyolet replied almost in a whisper, afraid someone outside may hear. "She wanted me to keep an eye on them. But they're sweet girls. I didn't tell anything the queen that would harm them," she assured him.

"Why are you telling me this?" Ned frown deepened.

"Because I need your help," Vyolet replied, finally looking up at him.

"My help?"

Vyolet nodded.

"I need you to help me flee Kings Landing."

Stark's surprised only grew.

"Flee?" He repeated surprised.

"I cannot tell you exactly, why. The queen threatened my mother and innocent people I care about," said Vyolet, worriedly. "That's why I need to leave."

Ned watched the girl and remembered Varys words. He said she an innocent girl, who wasn't like his family, yet she had spied on his daughter at the queen's request. What if this was Cersei's trap? But something in her face told him she was being honest. She looked frightened, despite trying to hide it from him. Vyolet reminded him of his daughters at that moment. When Joffrey and Cersei had accused Arya of attacking the prince and they ordered him to kill the dire wolf, they had looked at him the same way this girl was looking at him. Afraid, uncertain, pleading for help.

Ned sighted.

"Is this something to do with your father?" He asked her.

"My father?" Vyolet frowned and then understood what he was talking about. So he knew as well. "Rendal Lannister? Or do you mean King Aerys?"

Ned looked surprised.

"Is he your father?"

Vyolet smiled lightly and shrugged.

"I don't know. If he is, my mother never told me, but... I hear the queen saying so. And also, I heard stories about the Targaryan..."

She stopped for a moment.

"Yes," Stark urged her.

Vyolet stood up and walked to his light fireplace. The girl sank to her knees in front of it and rolled her sleeves leaving her arms bare. Ned observed her frowning. Then, the girl pushed her hands full into the fire.

Ned reacted by instinct. He grabbed her arms and pulled them back, but there was no need. Her pale skin was untouched.

"Is it true... is true a dragon cannot die by fire?" Vyolet asked Stark shakily, as she stood up slowly.

"Aye," was his only answer still looking at her arms. Those rumors had just been confirmed. She was a Targaryan, and a dragon.

"I will protect you," Ned vowed, looking up at the girl. "I swear. I'll help you leave the capital. But on the meantime, you have to keep pretending with Cersei. She must not know. Can you do that?"

Vyolet smiled sadly.

"I'm a Lannister, Lord Stark. Lie to protect ourselves is in our blood."

* * *

Vyolet didn't sleep at all that night. Her mind going crazy. She was a Targaryan... Her father wasn't Rendal Lannister, but the Mad King. Rendal had died almost ten years ago, but it still hurt her. Vyolet remembered clearly the king and loving man he was. Had he knew he wasn't her father? Vyolet shook her head. She may not have Rendal's blood in her, but he was her father. Now and always.

When the morning came, Vyolet felt thoroughly exhausted. Her face looked paler and lifeless and she was cold for some reason. She broke fast with Sansa and her friends, but she didn't have the energy to gossip, not even to pretend she was interested in it.

"Darling, are you alright?" Lady Marya asked Vyolet. The girl looked up startled, almost dropping her cup of tea.

"Yes," she replied nodding. "Well, my head hurts."

"Oh poor thing, why did you even came at all?" Mariya replied. "Go and rest. We'll wait you for the midday meal."

Vyolet nodded and excused herself. She wasn't sure she would sleep, but at least she wouldn't have to pull on a polite face while lying on her bed.

However, Arya bumped into her.

"Vyolet!" She hugged her, excitedly.

"Hello, little one," said Vyolet with a smile. "Where are you going?"

"To my dancing classes."

Of course.

"Very well, don't let me entertain you."

"Why don't you come with me? Syrio wants to meet you!"

"Your dancing master? Why?" Vyolet frowned confused.

"Well, he... huh, he said he wants to see you fight to see how much you ruin my lessons while helping me."

"Wow, he sounds lovely," Vyolet replied sarcastically.

"Please, come," Arya insisted.

Vyolet sighed and let the girl dragged her to the room where she practiced. As soon as her master saw how tired Vyolet was, she wouldn't waste his time with her.

Syrio was a surprise for Vyolet. He was very short man, around Arya's height. But he had a sturdy complexion. The man looked at her with an amused and smug expression.

"Who's your friend, child?" He asked Arya.

"She's my friend, Vyolet," Arya replied.

"Ah, the one who thinks she's helping you," Syrio replied sarcastically. "I wonder if all Lannisters are always so accommodating."

Arya frowned confused, but Vyolet smiled.

"We are not, but then again I'm not like most Lannisters," Vyolet replied. "For starters, they would never let a girl like me train with a sword, but yet I know how to use one."

"Do you?" Syrio raised his eyebrows at her. Vyolet nodded.

"The child says you have train with a Braavosi, before," Syrio continued.

Vyolet nodded.

"I have."

"Well, you wouldn't mind to show me what you have learn, would you?" Syrio asked her, raising his wooden sword.

"I wouldn't but I'm exhausted. I hardly slept last night," Vyolet replied apologetically.

"Good," said Sryio grabbing another wooden sword and throwing it to her. Vyolet caught it and he smiled. "You'll be a marvelous example. See, I've told Arya that when she's attacked, the conditions won't in her favor."

"I won't be good," Vyolet insisted.

"If you're not now, then you never were child," Syrio smirked at her and suddenly attacked. Vyolet reacted just in time to block his attack.

"Fasts reflects, good," Syrio nodded.

Vyolet sighed, and lifted the sword, while her other hand grabbed her dress. Syrio would be so much harder to beat than Arya. Syrio smirked as if he could read her thoughts and attacked. He was quick and hit harder than Vyolet expected. And because he was shorter than her, she had to watch her feet even more. However, thanks to her dress, she avoided some painful blows with the wooden sword.

He beat her of course, but Vyolet gave him a hell of a fight. Or at least the girl thought that. She ended up on her knees, his sword on her neck and hers a couple of feet away on the floor. Vyolet's face was red and her chest rose and fell rapidly.

Syrio nodded, pulled his sword down and help her to her feet.

"Does the lady's master's name was Irreo Vynohar?"

Vyolet looked at him surprised.

"How do you know that?"

Syrio smiled as he had remembered a fond memory.

"Irreo Vynohar was my friend," he replied. "A brilliant dancing master."

"He was," Vyolet agreed nodding.

"He helped me fight wearing a dress. Gave me a good beating every time I tripped with it," Vyolet reminded softly.

Syrio nodded.

"But now you have good balance. Maybe this child should learn that too."

Vyolet laughed at Arya's disgusted face.

"I don't think you or anyone will catch Arya wearing a dress anytime soon, so she doesn't to worry about that."

Syrio smiled and nodded, then looked at Arya.

"Child, stretch your limbs. Remember the exercises."

Arya nodded and went to a corner of the room, starting to extend her arms and legs. Once she was far enough, Syrio turned to Vyolet, his smile turning sarcastic yet again.

"Irreo Vyohar wouldn't have teach you his ways, if a child lacked honor," Syrio told Vyolet seriously. "No matter how much the Lannisters offered to pay him."

"You're questioning my honor," Vyolet told him, but help but smile. "I mean I understand, but still it hurts me a little."

"That child is under my protection," Syrio reminded her, nodding at Arya. "I won't allow any harm to come to her, while I'm teaching her."

"I won't hurt her," Vyolet told him, earnestly, her smile fading. "I promised this to her father and I promised this to you."

"A Lannister promise don't mean much to Syrio Forel," said the man sarcastically.

"Then it's good I'm not a Lannister," Vyolet replied, fiercely, almost in a whisper.

Syrio then just smiled. As he already knew. As if he was waiting to hear that.

"My friend Irreo did a good job on you girl," Syrio told her. "He would be proud of you. Don't let it go to waste."

And with a nod of his head, he left Vyolet to join Arya.

* * *

Vyolet slept all day. She missed the midday lunch and din't woke up until it was dark. She couldn't help herself. She had been exhausted and after Syrio's beating, she couldn't do anything but sleep for hours.

Esthis ran her a bath after she woke up, telling her she had been summoned by Cersei once again. Vyolet sighed as her maid washed her hair, and closed her eyes enjoying the feeling, trying to let all her problems go for just a moment. She had almost drifted to sleep once again when she finished.

Vyolet dryed herself and Esthis helped her in a dress as Vyolet went through all the possible scenarios, preparing herself for the worst ones. With Cersei she couldn't expect less.

She left her room, practicing a cool, polite facade. It had to be perfect, especially when Cersei asked about what she had talked with Ned Stark. And speaking of him, he just entered the corridor, surrounded by his men. Vyolet stopped, not knowing what that meant.

"Lord Stark," Vyolet bowed her head as he approached her.

"The King is hurt," he informed her.

Vyolet frowned not understanding.

"The King is going to die," Stark added, lowering his voice. Vyolet opened her eyes wide, taken aback. "Once that happens, you must not be here. I'll arrenge for you to escape safely with Sansa and Arya."

Vyolet was speechless for a moment before nodding.

"Thank you, my lord," she said overwhelmed.

"Where are you going now?"

Vyolet smiled bitterly.

"I've been summoned by the queen."

Ned Stark tensed.

"What are you going to tell her?" He asked.

Vyolet sighed.

"A colorful expression keeps popping in my mind, but it's not very lady-like."

Stark couldn't help but smile.

"Be careful, child."

Vyolet nodded and then left lord Stark, ready to meet Cersei.

* * *

 **Thanks guys for reading this and following it. It means everything to me.**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

That Would be Lovely

...

Queen Cersei oversaw the city from the window, sipping on a glass of wine. Her husband of ten years was dying on another room, and she couldn't care less. Sometimes she felt pity of Robert. Sometimes she was sorry it wasn't her personally who killed him.

There was a knock on the door then. The doors opened and when the queen turned she saw her niece bowing.

"Your grace."

"Vyolet, dear, come," the queen extended a hand for her niece to take. "Sit please."

Vyolet took Cersei's clammy hand and was pulled to the chair next to her.

"I called you several hours ago, but your maid told me you were asleep," Cersei told her, putting on a confused and worried look.

"I was, your grace," Vyolet nodded. "I was feeling rather ill."

"I wonder what have Ned Stark told you to upset you so," said Cersei.

"It wasn't that your grace," Vyolet replied calmly.

"No?"

"I've... It's just women's monthly affliction," Vyolet swiftly lied.

Cersei smiled at her niece's gut. Well she couldn't deny she was a Lannister after all.

"Right, you're a woman now Vyolet," Cersei commented, extending a hand and touching the curls falling on her niece's shoulder. "A lovely woman. You'll make a fine wife someday. And a queen perhaps," she added before taking a sip of wine.

Vyolet's stomach felt helping pull a confused face convincingly.

"Your grace?"

"Your mother has consent for you to marry Joffrey," Cersei informed her with a sardonic smile. "Isn't that wonderful?"

"But I thought that Sansa..."

"Sansa is not as good as you dear," Cersei waved her hand. "Aren't you happy?"

Happy? Vyolet felt as if someone had slapped her in the face with a hot pan.

"I-I am. I love Joffrey," Vyolet's voice waved for the first time since she had come here. Cersei smiled wider, seeing as she was getting to her niece.

"Then it's settled," the queen clapped her hands. "I won't only be your aunt, but also your mother."

Vyolet forced a sweet smile, screaming on the inside.

"That would be lovely."

Cersei smiled back as if she could read her thoughts. Then leaned back on her chair.

"Would you pass me that glass, Violet dear?" The queen asked her, pointing at a fine glass resting on the fireplace hearth.

Vyolet frowned but obeyed immediately. She stood up and went to fetch the glass, then she walked to the queen.

"Leave it there, it's fine," Cersei pointed at a small tray with water. Vyolet frowned but did as told. Vyolet jumped back startled as a hissing sound came out of it the instant the glass touch the water. Smoke came out of it, the water turned white, and the glass shattered in tiny pieces.

"What happened?" Vyolet asked confused, looking at Cersei who just smirked at his niece.

"That, dear Vyolet, is what happens when you shove hot glass into water."

Vyolet opened her eyes wide, but Cersei was faster. She grabbed one of the girl's hand, and opened her palm, revealing untouched skin.

"You just grabbed a glass that was in the fire for several hours, and you didn't even have a mark in your hands. Isn't that curious?" Cersei asked, looking up at her with a sardonic smile.

"I-I think I grab it with my sleeve," the girl desperately and poorly lied.

"Dear Vyolet, I wished you would stop lying to me," Cersei replied letting her hand go. "I know who your father was. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

Vyolet watched her suspiciously.

"Really?"

Cersei nodded, leaning back in her chair.

"Maybe your father wasn't a Lannister, but your mother is. And the Lannister always protect their own all, you know what would happen if someone knows you have Targaryan's blood?"

Vyolet shook her head.

"There's a lot of people in the city who had suffered large losses because of the Mad King. They would murder you, child. They would tear you limb from I won't let them. I will protect you, child. And just imagine, the old Valyrian house of Targaryen finally joined with the Lannister. You and Joffrey would be untouchable. Our family would be the most powerful in the whole realm."

Vyolett looked up to the queen, feeling defeated.

"That would be... lovely."

* * *

Vyolet woke up with a heavy heart. She could feel something was wrong, or would be.

Esthis brought her her food and Vyolet started to eat slowly, as her maid brushed and styled her hair. Then she heard them. The bells. That could only mean... Vyolet's heart started pounding like crazy. Lord Stark had told her, as soon as the king died, she needed to leave.

She stood up and went to her chest. She pulled out a jeweled dagger on its sheath and hid it on her sleeve. Then she walked to the door.

"Lady Vyolet, where are you going? You need to finish your meal," Esthis followed her quickly, admonishing her.

"I need to go, Esthis. And I need you to pack our things, as quickly as possible."

The old lady frowned confused.

"But, my lady..."

"Please," Vyolet grabbed her hands and looked at her urgently. "We're in danger, Esthis. We need to go. Please, do as I say."

The old woman nodded at her, looking frightened.

"Yes, my lady."

"And don't open the door for anyone. Don't let them see you packing and if they ask for me, I'm in the gardens."

Vyolet climbed down the stairs two by two steps, dashing through the corridors. Arya would be the closest she thought. She probably was with Syrio.

As she was reaching the Stark's wing, she saw Lannister men slaughtering the Stark's men and women. A soldier ruthlessly slit a woman's throat and threw her to the floor.

Vyolet covered her mouth with her hand, repressing a screaming, and kept running. Vyolet reached the practice room and almost fell onto her knees. Four Lannister soldiers lied dead on the floor along with the swordmaster Syrio. He had a wound on his back and his eyes looking at nothing.

Meryn Trant was on the floor and stood up helped by another Lannister soldier.

Vyolet turned to them with tears of anger in her eyes.

"What is the meaning of this?" She demanded.

"It was the queen's orders," Trant spat, glaring at the girl.

"Oh, it was the queen's orders to attack a man armed with a wooden sword?" The girl spat, furiously.

Trant glared at the girl's insult.

"He let escape Arya Stark!"

"My bad, ser Trant," Vyolet replied sarcastically, shaking with contained anger. "Far from me to question of a man's honor who just attacked an eight year old girl and her sword master armed with wooden swords!"

Ser Trant's hand ached to hit the girl's face so she could learn a bit of respect.

With a last glare, the girl turned around, walking to the door.

"Where are you going?" Ser Trant and the soldier followed her.

Vyolet stopped and turned around, looking down at them.

"The right form to address me, ser, would be: where are you going, my lady?' Do not forget your place!" The girl replied coldly. "And I'm going to look for the queen, to inform her of your honorable victory."

"I'm afraid you can't," Trant shot back stepping to her. "The queen give us another order, _my lady._ " the last part full of venom.

Vyolet smirked and raised her chin.

"Yes, and what was it?"

It was Trant's turned to smirk.

"You are to be escorted to your rooms, and keep there, _my lady_."

Vyolet glared at them, feeling her stomach sank. Dammit. Then she turned around and ran.

"Seize her!" Trant shouted at the soldier as both men ran after her.

Suddenly, a soldier appeared in front of her. He opened her arms, ready to catch her. Vyolet let herself be caught by him, raising her arms, as she was to hug the man. The soldier was caught surprised by her movements and didn't see the girl pulling a dagger out of her sleeve and stabbing him on the back of his neck. As the man choked on his blood, Vyolet pulled his sword from his waist and kept going, barely missing escaping Trant's hand trying to grab her. Vyolet ran through the corridor as fast as she could with the sword raised. A soldier again walked to her, but confused by seeing a girl like her walking with a sword, didn't react in time to block her attack.

She felt her heart pulsing in her throat. She had messed up big time. What now? But she had not time to ponder because she had just reached a landing where five Lannister soldiers, with bloodied armors, were. The girl looked down and saw the severed head of Sansa and Arya's septor. But she couldn't scream, because five men just charged at her.

She fought hard. Harder than any of those soldiers could expect. He killed one, hit another on the face and then... someone hit her on the head. Hard. And then she was falling to the ground, darkness wrapping her in its arms. Was she dead? It was her last thought.

* * *

Vyolet's head was pounding and her body felt too heavy. She felt too tired to open her eyes and was going back to sleep when she heard a voice. Someone was crying.

Vyolet let a groan and opened her eyes. Immediately she saw Esthis, her eyes red rimmed with tears.

"My lady, my lady, are you alright?" Esthis asked her, fussing over her, and helped her sit down. Vyolet clutch the side of her head that was pounding.

"Esthis? What happened? Where am I?" Vyolet looked around, seeing she was in her bed, in her chambers on the Red Keep.

"Ser Trant brought you here, my lady," said the old lady. "He says you fainted."

"I fainted my arse!" Vyolet groaned.

"My lady!" Esthis scolded her coarse language, but Vyolet ignored it.

"Do you know anything else? What is going on outside?"

Esthis shook her head.

"I just know the queen send Lannister soldiers. They're outside to protect us."

Vyolet sighed and closed her eyes.

"They're outside to keep us in."

* * *

Vyolet understood why Esthis was crying so much when she looked herself at a mirror. Her dress was dirty and had big stains of blood, she looked palce and had a black giant bruise on her temple, from where she was hit.

The girl get out of her dress, and as Esthis was rubbing some ointment on her bruise, there was a knock on the door. A Lannister steward entered the room, bowing at the girl.

"Lady Vyolet, the queen is asking for your presence."

Vyolet nodded, sighing. She knew Cersei would punish her sooner or later.

The girl made sure her hair was perfectly combed before following the steward. She didn't want to give her a reason to gloat. Her bruise would be reason enough. Also, she wondered about Lord Stark. Was he dead? Was he capture? What would happen to them now? Where was Arya? Where was Sansa?

* * *

The Royal Council was reunited and standing all behind Cersei as the confronted Sansa. The girl looked afraid and lost.

"Your father has proved to be an awful traitor, dear," Varys told her.

"King Robert's body was still warm when Lord Eddard began plotting to steal Joffrey's rightful throne," the Grand Maester continued on his raspy voice.

"He wouldn't do that," Sansa protested. "He knows how much I love Joffrey. He wouldn't. Please, Your Grace, there's been a mistake. Send for my father. He'll tell you. The king was his friend."

"Sansa sweetling, you are innocent of any wrong. We know that," Cersei replied softly. "Yet you are the daughter of a traitor. How can I allow you to marry my son?" The queen raised an eyebrow.

Sansa opened her mouth to reply but Maester Pycelle was faster.

"A child born of a traitor's seed is no fit consort for our king," he told the queen, severe. "She is a sweet thing now, Your Grace, but in 10 years who knows what treasons she may hatch?"

"No, I'm not. I'll be a good wife to him, you'll see," Sansa begged. "I'll be a queen just like you, I promise. I won't hatch anything."

The queen looked at Sansa feeling pity for the girl. She had no idea what was going, she was just afraid for her father's life. Before she could say something however, the door was opened and the steward walked in bowing at the queen.

"Your grace, lady Vyolet," he announced.

Vyolet walked in, bowing and her eyes fell on Sansa. What the hells was going on?

"Your grace, did you call?" Vyolet asked on a sweet voice.

She saw the queen's lips pursed.

"Sit my sweet," she asked her kindly. "How are you feeling? I heard you fainted."

However, Cersei gave Vyolet a look as she sat. A look that said that she knew everything.

"I did," Vyolet confirmed. "And then hit my head with a door," she added with an embarrassed smile, gesturing at the bruise on her temple. "But I am fine now your Grace, thank you for your concern."

Vyolet looked around at Sansa who looked as confused as she was and then at the Council and the queen.

"What is going on?"

"We were just telling Sansa here that, she's a sweet girl, but her father is a traitor," Cersei replied.

Despite her best efforts, Vyolet couldn't hide her surprise.

"What?"

"Eddard Stark was arrested for trying to steal King Joffrey's rights," Maester Pycelle informed her upset, but a cold shiver ran through the girl's spine.

"King Joffrey," she replied almost in a whisper.

"Sansa, dove, I can't allow you to marry my son. I am sorry," Cersei continued ignoring Vyolet's shock.

"Your Grace, if I may," Maester Pycelle intervened leaning to her. "Lady Vyolet is a very accomplished young woman with many talents. Perhaps she could be a better choice for King Joffrey."

Vyolet looked up slowly. Varys looked down, and Baelish pursed his lips, both not very pleased with that suggestion, but the queen smirked.

"I have thought that too, Maester. You do love the king, don't you Vyolet?"

Vyolet nodded, resenting Cersei. She was using Vyolet's tricks against her.

"With all my heart, your Grace," Vyolet replied.

Sansa gave her a hurt look, feeling betrayed, but Vyolet couldn't do anything. What could she say after all? Cersei had been clear enough with her threat on her mother and now the king was gone and Lord Stark was in the dungeons. She had no protections left.

"But, what will happen to me?" Sansa asked sadly and worriedly.

"The girl is innocent, Your Grace," Lord Bealish quickly intervened. "She should be given a chance to prove her loyalty."

Cersei sighted, feeling sympathy for Sansa as well.

"Little dove, you must write to Lady Catelyn and your brother, the eldest, what's his name?" Cersei asked her.

"Robb."

"Word of your father's arrest will reach him soon, no doubt," said Cersei. "Best it comes from you. If you would help your father, urge your brother to keep the king's peace. Tell him to come to King's Landing and swear his fealty to Joffrey."

Cersei passed Sansa a quill and a piece of parchment. Sansa looked down at them.

"If-If I could see my father, talk to him about..." Sansa started to say, but the queen shook her head.

"You disappoint me, child," Cersei told her. "We have told you of your father's treason. Why would you want to speak to a traitor?"

Sansa looked at Vyolet, but the girl avoided her glance. If Cersei saw like Vyolet was trying to help her, it would be bad for the both of them.

Snasa looked to the queen now sadly.

"I only meant that... What will happen to him?"

"That depends," Cersei replied.

"On what?" Sansa asked.

Cersei passed her an ink jar.

"On your brother," said Cersei. "And on you."

* * *

Therefore, it was settled that Vyolet was going to marry King Joffrey and Sansa prince Tommen. However, if Sansa made her father confess and brought her brother Robb to the capital, she would still marry Joffrey.

Vyolet couldn't speak to her the whole meeting and both were escorted out by guards to their rooms so they wouldn't talk to each other, or leave their rooms for too long. Vyolet now had all her meals in her room. Just as she was having her midday meal, she thought of a way to help Sansa.

She cut a small piece of parchment and wrote: **Ask Joffrey for mercy and do as they tell you.**

Vyolet herself had heard the queen say to Jamie they needed the North. They couldn't afford to kill Ned, otherwise the Northerners would rise. Vyolet had never been there, but had heard of their loyalty. It was much different from the Southerners'.

The girl rolled the parchment into a small roll and hid it into her robes along with a couple of gold coins. She had in mind a steward that could help her, and not tell the queen.

Vyolet left her rooms, a couple of guards following her, and tell them she wanted to go to the gardens. She hope she would bump into the guy before reaching her 'destination.'

Her luck seemed to smile down on her as just a few stairs away from the gardens, she saw the boy walking on the opposite direction. What was his name again? Elliot? Ellion? Ellion!

"Boy," Vyolet called him.

Ellion turned and bowed at the girl, not daring to smile, seeing the guards behind her.

She walked to him, indicating the guards to stay back.

"You forgot something the last time I saw you," she declared loud enough for the guards to gave him a small roll of parchment and three gold coins.

Ellion smirked raising his eyebrows.

"Yes my lady, thank you," he said loudly. "I've been looking for it."

"Take this to lady Sansa," Vyolet mumbled quickly. "Not her maid, not her guard, lady Sansa."

"I knew how much means for you," the girl added loudly then.

"Lady Sansa? I think that's worth ten coins," the boy mumbled.

Vyolet glared and gave it two more.

"Five now, five after."

Ellion bowed at her.

"My lady."

"If the queen knows about this, or anyone in that circle, I'll have you killed," the girl threatened him with a smile.

Ellion just smirked and bowed again.

"Don't worry, my lady. you can trust me," he whispered.

Vyolet turned to her guards and nodded at them, before walking away. The men followed them quickly.

Ellion put quickly the coins and roll on his pocket and walked to the opposite direction, unaware that Varys was watching him closely.

* * *

After Ellion swiftly left Sansa's room, he was intercepted by Varys. The eunuch stood looking at him with a rose eyebrow.

"What were you doing on Lady Sansa's room boy?" He asked with a severe frown.

"She asked for a bowl of pears," the boy replied innocently. And in fact, he had taken those pears. Sansa had been confused, but understood when she saw the small roll of parchment.

"Did she?" Varys asked unconvinced.

"Yes," Ellion nodded.

"I saw you talking earlier with lady Vyolet," Varys continued, turning his voice threatening. "Do you know the queen had forbid her to speak with lady Sansa?

"I didn't, my lord," Ellion replied, pretending to be confused.

"Mmm," replied Varys, watching the boy intentionally. "What if I told you I'm going to report this to queen? I'm sure she'll find the truth one way or another."

"If you must, my lord. But I only brought lady Sansa pears at her request," said Ellion calmly.

Varys repressed a smile, and kept going with a stern voice.

"What if the queen thinks you pass on a message boy?"

"Well, she'll probably have me executed," Ellion replied.

"A very painful execution indeed," Varys added, but the boy didn't say anything else. "Who are you boy?"

"Ellion Coldrin."

"Where have you served before the Red Keep, Ellion Coldrin?" Varys asked him, now more softly.

"Casterly Rock," said Ellion.

Varys smiled now.

"Ah. I guess that's where your devotion to lady Vyolet comes from."

"I'm not devoted to her," Ellion frowned a bit indignantly, but Varys just chuckled.

"My dear boy, if I had been somebody else, you'll be paying dearly with your life for helping Vyolet and for lying about it. Lucky for you, I want to help her too."

Ellion gave him a suspicious look.

"The last time someone helped her she got a bruise and a Royal Guard carry her to her room unconscious," Ellion told Varys bitterly.

"My boy, her situation is only going to get worse if she stays here," Varys told him in a whisper. "I have a plan to get her out, but I need your help."

Ellion gave him a look but nodded. Vyolet may not remember him from Casterly Rock, but he didn't forget her. Ellion owed her his life and he intended to repay that debt.

* * *

Vyolet enjoyed drinking wine. But only at parties, on joyful occasions. And the wines she drank were sweet and soft. Today, however, she indulged herself. Not even Esthis scolded her for her unladylike behavior. The old lady just brushed her hair and rubbed some ointment on her bruised temple.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and Cersei entered.

"Your Grace," both maid and mistress rose to their feet and bowed.

Cersei waved her hand and Vyolet sat back at her chair. A steward came and placed a golden tray with a lid in front of Vyolet, before bowing and leaving.

"How are you feeling child?" Cersei asked, looking at the bruise Esthis was dressing.

"Better, your Grace," Vyolet replied, smiling. She found out her smile looked more genuine thanks to the wine.

"Here," said Cersei, pulling a little green bottle. "This is better. Let me."

As the queen dismissed the old lady, and opened the bottle, Vyolet tensed. Her aunt wouldn't poison her in front of her mind, would she? But the ointment smelled like mint and herbs. It was quite soothing actually.

"You didn't look very happy when Maester Pycelle suggested a marriage to my son," Cersei commented rubbing softly her temple.

"I was only surprised, your Grace," Vyolet replied.

"Why? I had already talked you about it," Cersei kept pushing.

"I didn't expect the Maester Pycelle to show his support for the match and... I know how lady Sansa loves Joffrey. She's my friend, your Grace. I didn't want her to think me unworthy of trust." Vyolet used her unofficial mission as an excuse.

"You don't have to be friends with her anymore," Cersei shrugged. "After all, her father is a traitor and hes safely locked away. We don't have to be worried about the Starks anymore."

"I'm glad, your Grace," Vyolet nodded, trying to maintain her smile on her face. To not give away her real feelings with her eyes.

"Are you? Because I don't really think you understand how lucky you are," said Cersei, a bit of disdain on her voice.

"Your Grace?" Vyolet frowned confused. Where she was going with this?

"Now your secret is safe, little dragon," Cersei whispered in her ear. "Now that the traitor is locked away in the dungeons."

Vyolet nodded a knot forming in her stomach.

"I understand."

"You don't, child," Cersei sighed, walking around her and sitting in front of her. The queen smirked, crossing her fingers.

"You are an accomplished lady. You excel in history I've been told."

Vyolet nodded, again not knowing where the queen's point was.

"I love history, your Grace," the girl replied earnestly.

"Then you must know by heart the life of Aerys Targaryen, the second of his name," Cersei cocked her head.

Vyolet stopped smiling and nodded.

"I do."

"Tell me child, how he was famously known?"

"He was known as the Mad King," Vyolet replied.

"And do you know why?"

"He was paranoid after he was held prisoner on Duskendale," said Vyolet quickly. "He took extreme measures against what he considered treason."

"Extreme measures," Cersei replied, smiling. "It is a very general term, isn't it? It doesn't fully illustrate the rage he inspired with his cruel methods," Cersei took Vyolet's cup of wine and took a sip herself. "For example, Ned Stark's own father and brother were burned alive by the Mad King. Did you know that?"

Vyolet nodded.

"Yes, your Grace."

"Do you think a man such as Lord Stark who cares most of all for his family, would help you, the child of the one who murder his family in such a cruel way?"

Vyolet shook her head.

"I don't think so, your Grace."

"You don't think so?" Cersei mocked her. "I am sure. Your half brother Rhaegar also kidnapped Stark's sister and raped her. You know who else wouldn't be so happy about finding the truth about your father little girl?" Vyolet just shook her head weakly. "Have you noticed ser Payne's quiet demeanor? It isn't that he's shy, but the Mad King grabbed his tongue and cut it with a hot iron," Cersei smiled, and took another sip of wine. Oh, she was good, Vyolet thought, as the queen kept terrorizing her.

"The court is full of people who suffered the Mad King's anger, Vyolet dear. People who would be more than glad to have a bit of retribution with any living Targaryen. Your uncle, my father himself, wasn't very pleased with your father. He raised armies against it. Seeing it that way, you may think you have no friends at all, and that your death is just upon you," Cersei's voice caressed those words as if it were the sweetest of words. "But you're lucky that you're also a Lannister. Never forget it, child," Cersei grabbed her hand and Vyolet looked at her, hopelessly. "That is the only reason you're alive. And the only reason I and our family will protect you. Remember Vyolet, that the enemies you should fear are not Lannisters."

Vyolet just nodded, unable to find the strength to fake a smile.

"Yes, your Grace. Thank you."

"Just think, sweet girl," Cersei continued with a poisonous smile, "of your future if you help me. Queen of Westeros. Wife of King Joffrey. Mother of the future king. Just like me."

Vyolett nodded again, weakly.

"That would be lovely."

Cersei smiled very pleased. She had finally had broken Vyolett. This time when the queen pulled the string, the girl would dance.

"I brought you something else," Cersei said. "You must be hungry."

Before Vyolet could answer, Cersei lifted the lid from the tray revealing a flambe pie in the shape of a dragon. The queen grabbed a small cup with rum and poured it over the pie, before set it on fire. Vyolet watched the pie burned until the crust turned black.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

It Feels Like the End

...

Vyolet knew it had only been a few days, but her stay at the Red Keep felt like years already. She woke up every morning, hoping it would bring something else, something better, even praying to the Gods, but it was to no avail.

The next day after talking with Cersei, the court was summoned to the Throne Room. Joffrey was going to establish the new order.

Vyolet was escorted by her two guards. Her friends in court didn't approach her, but waved at her, smiling. Cersei had run the rumor that Lord Stark had tried to kidnap her and the guards were for Vyolet's own protection. The girl almost smiled at the cruel irony.

Joffrey, now king, smirked at Vyolet as he spotted her, leaning lazily on the Iron Throne. Smiling slyly next to him was Cersei, and on Joffrey's left was the council; the Grand Maester, Lord Baelish, and Lord Varys, overlooking the courtesans.

After rewarding one of the soldiers who had killed Syrio, the court started whispering as Sansa entered the room, escorted by her own two guards.

She tried to be polite to the lords and ladies but they just snubbed her.

Vyolet had to avoid her glance as the Grand Maester kept with the new arrangements.

"In the place of the traitor, Eddard Stark, it is the wish of his Grace that Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West be appointed Hand of the King," Grand Maester Pycelle declared with his raspy voice result of too many years of wine and tobacco.

When her father's name was mentioned, Sansa felt the eyes of the court on her. They were not kind eyes.

"Lastly," Pycell continued, "in these times of treason and turmoil, it is the view of the council, that the life and safety of King Joffrey be of paramount importance."

"Ser Barristan Selmy," called queen Cersei, standing up.

The man abandoned his place in in the line of the Royal Guard and turned around to face the King and his mother.

"Your Grace, I am yours to command," said ser Barristan, kneeling.

"Rise, Ser Barristan," said the queen and the man obeyed. "You may remove your helm."

The man did as tell a bit reluctantly.

"You have served the realm long and faithfully," Cersei declared. "Every man and woman in the Seven Kingdoms owes you thanks. But it is time to put aside your armor and your sword. It is time to rest and look back with pride on your many years of service."

Ser Barristan looked at the queen as she had just slapped him, and in a way it was.

"Your Grace, the Kingsguard is a sworn brotherhood," Ser Barristan told the queen. "Our vows are taken for life. Only death relieves us of our sacred trust."

But Cersei kept smiling, her smile turning crueler and colder.

"Whose death, Ser Barristan?" Asked the queen. "Yours or your King?"

Ser Barrestan gave the queen a look.

"You let my father die," Joffrey intervened. "You're too old to protect anybody," the boy declared cruelly.

Ser Barristan took a breath.

"Your Grace-"

"The council has determined," Cersei interrupted him, "that Ser Jaime Lannister will take your place as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard."

Ser Barristan then understood. He was being dishonorably discharged because of nepotism.

"The man who profaned his blade with the blood of the king he had sworn to defend?" Ser Barristan asked.

"Careful ser," Cersei snapped.

"We have nothing but gratitude for your long service, good Ser," Varys intervened smoothly. "You shall be given a stout beside the sea, with servants to look after your every need."

"A hall to die in," Barristan protested disgusted. "And men to bury me."

Then the man aggressively took off his cape.

"I am a knight! I shall die a knight!" He declared, throwing the cape to the ground. And then threw his helmet too and his gloves.

"A naked knight, apparently," Baelish slyly intervened and his comment was received with laughs.

Vyilet didn't think. She knew ser Barristan was an honorable man and this was an injustice. It was petty to laugh over his distress, but then again, that was lord Baelish.

Barristan took out his sword after the laughs and all the guards too.

"Even now I could cut through the five of you like carving a cake!" He told his former disloyal guards.

Then he looked up at Joffrey enraged and threw his sword at his feet.

"Here, boy!" Barristan declared. Joffrey sat straight startled. "Melt it down and add it to the others."

The man the turned around and left the Throne Room among scandalized whispers and the doors closing with a thud.

The steward looked at the queen nervously who nodded.

"If any man in this hall has other matters to set before his Grace," the man called. "Let him speak now or go forth and hold his silence."

Sansa's eyes locked with the queens before speaking:

"Your Grace," Sansa called and everyone turned to her.

"Come forward, my lady," Joffrey told her.

Sansa took a deep breath before walking to the center of the room.

"The lady Sansa of House Stark," the steward announced to the court.

"Do you have some business for the king and the council, Sansa?" The queen asked kindly.

"I do," Sansa nodded and then knelt on the floor.

"As it pleases your Grace," said Sansa, "I ask mercy for my father, Lord Eddard Stark, who was Hand of the King."

"Treason is a noxious weed!" Pycelle declared upset. "I should be torn out, root..."

"Let her speak," Joffrey ordered him, in a rare sign of kindness. "I want to hear what she says."

Then looked at Sansa reassuringly.

"Thank you, your Grace," Sansa replied, with a smile, a bit of hope starting to grow in her.

"Do you deny your father's crime?" Baelish asked Sansa.

"No, my lords," Sansa responded. "I know he must be punished. All I ask is mercy. I know my lord father must regret what he did. He was King Robert's friend and he loved him. You all know he loved him."

Sansa looked then at the queen.

"He never wanted to be Hand until the king asked him. They must have lied to him. Lord Renly or Lord Stannis or somebody. They must have lied!"

"He said I wasn't the king," Joffrey told Sansa. "Why did he say that?"

"He was badly hurt," Sansa replied. "Maester Pycelle was giving him milk of the poppy. He wasn't himself. Otherwise, he never would have said it."

Joffrey stared at her.

"A child's faith," Varys marveled. "Such sweet innocence. And yet they say wisdom oft comes from the mouths of babes."

"Treason is treason!" Pycelle snapped angrily, then he glared at the girl.

"Anything else?" Joffrey asked Sansa.

"If you still have any affection in your heart for me," Sansa pleaded. "Please, do me this kindness, your Grace."

Joffrey leaned back, as he seemed to reconsider it.

"Your sweet words have moved me," said Joffrey as Cersei smiled to him," but your father has to confess. He has to confess and say that I'm the king, or there'll be no mercy for him."

Sansa felt smaller than ever, with the eyes of the court and the king on her, while on her knees.

She remembered Vyolet's message.

"He will," the girl declared.

* * *

Vyolet was reading by her window, as Esthis styled her hair, when a commotion broke just outside her and Vyolet looked at each other confused and a bit alarmed.

But then Vyolet heard a familiar voice, speaking way too louder, and the soldier outside her door, responding in the same way:

"Go away boy!" The man shouted, annoyed.

"I have a message to lady Vyolet from her mother!" Ellion insisted. At that, the girl sprung to her feet and ran to open the door just in time to see one of the guards towering over Elliot and the other glaring at him, while clutching his sword hilt.

"You can give it to me," one of the soldiers tried to intimidate Ellion.

"No, he will give it to me!" Vyolet said, from behind them. Both soldiers turned to the girl, with nasty glares.

"We have orders, my lady."

"Orders to keep me safe," Vyolet snapped with authority that she really didn't have. "Not to keep my mother's messages from me."

"The boy can say it here then," the soldier insisted.

"Let him through," Vyolet ordered them. "Or I'll go to my beloved cousin, the king."

The soldiers glared at the girl but moved aside to let Ellion inside Vyolet's room. Vyolet returned the glare and closed the door on their faces. She then took Ellion by the hand to a the far end of the room, nodding at Esthis to approach too.

"What does my mother says?" She asked him in a whisper. She didn't want to risk the guards hearing her.

"Nothing, all her messages were intercepted by the queen."

Vyolet looked at Ellion confused.

"What? Then what are you doing here?"

"I have a message from lord Varys and lord Stark," Ellion told her.

Vyolet couldn't help but gasp, and grab his hand.

"What is it?"

"You're leaving King's Landing today," Ellion replied, and Vyolet felt her heart starting to race.

"Praised be the Gods," Esthis said, letting out a breath.

Vyolet watched her old maid's relief but she didn't want to raise her hopes again. The last person who had tried to help her was now in the dungeons.

"How?" Vyolet asked, shaking her head.

"Today Lord Stark will confess his treason," Ellion explained. "Just now he's being taken to the Sept of the Baelor."

"What? But he's innocent! What he would do that?"

Vyolet couldn't understand. Lord Stark was an honorable and brave man. Why would he tarnish his honor with such a lie?

Ellion shrugged.

"You're asking the wrong person, mi lady," the boy replied. "But your missing the point. Everyone would be there! The king, the queen, the guard! That's your opportunity to escape. I would take you to Lord Varys and he will help you out of the city."

"Alright, yes, but what about the guards?" Vyolet asked, raising an eyebrow and pointing at the door.

Ellion smiled at her in a way she was sure she had seen before.

"Don't worry I got it," he told her.

"Wait," Vyolet grabbed his hand, stopping him. She had finally recognized him. "You're that boy, from Cairlight. You helped my brother that time Joffrey tried to hurt him."

Ellion nodded, smiling wider.

"And you stopped Joffrey from executing me after. Now I'm helping you."

Vyolet smiled, relieved, finding solace in one person she could actually trust. She stepped to the boy and hugged him.

"Thank you," she said softly, missing the shocked blushed face of Ellion, but not Esthis who cleared her throat.

"But how are we going to get rid of the guards?" She asked him stepping away from him. "Maybe if you go and get something we can slip into their wine..."

"This is faster," Ellion interrupted her, pulling a dagger from his sleeve.

Vyolet opened her eyes wide opened.

"What? Wait...!" Vyolet hissed, but before she could stop him, Ellion had opened the door, and before both guards who turned around, he stabbed the closest in the neck.

Vyolet and Esthis gasped and shrieked in surprise and terror, as Ellion pulled the dagger out of the soldier's neck and this fell the floor, chocking with his blood.

"You little rat!" The other guard yelled, furiously pulling out his sword. Ellion stepped back raising his dagger, making the guard step into the room, leaving the door clear.

"Ran! Now! Go to the kitchens!" Ellion told Vyolet and Esthis.

The guard turned, realizing the trap but Ellion managed to make a cut in his neck. It wasn't very deep and just angered the man, who sung his sword almost decapitating the boy.

"No!" Vyolet screamed in horror and with all the force she could muster, she raised a hand directing it to her chair by the fire. The chair flung in the air, as if it were pulled by a cord, and crashed on the guard, making him fall to his knees, but not strong enough to knock him out.

Ellion didn't miss the chance and plunged the dagger into the man's neck, letting him fall as he died. Then he looked up to the girl confused and shocked.

"What the hell was that? Did you...?"

"Never mind that!" Vyolet snapped running to the guard on the door. "Quick, help me pull that body in!"

Between Ellion and Vyolet pulled the guard inside the room, leaving a thick trace of blood after him. Then Ellion closed the door.

"My lady!" Esthis told Vyolet, alarmed and shocked by the whole thing.

"Shh, Esthis," Vyolet chastised her, walking to her. "There was no other way."

"Quickly, take this off," she told her maid, pulling off her veil. "They can't recognize you."

Then Vyolet ran to her jewelry chest. She took out all the money she had and put it on a bag. Then grabbed a fine necklace and headpiece and passed it to Esthis.

"Put this on. They'll think you're the wife of some lord," the maid obeyed her young mistress as Vyolet ran to her clothes chest, her dagger, which she hide on her sleeve, her bow and quiver she used for recreational hunt and a thick cloak to conceal it all. She pulled another cloak and pulled it over Esthis. She did looked like a high board lady if you didn't notice the maid dress underneath the cloak.

"We have to go now," Ellion urged them.

"Alright, alrgiht," Vyolet huffed walking to the dead guards and took their swords, giving one to Ellion, who nodded and tied it around his waist. Vyolet tied the other one on her, making sure the cloak hid it.

Ellion opened the door, made sure it was clear before letting them out. He closed the door after Esthis, and grabbing Vyolet's hand, he dragged her.

They crossed the empty corridors, having to stop from time to time, to avoid guards or a few servants, rushing still to the Sept of the Baelor.

Ellion took them to the lowest level in the castle and pulled them in the kitchen, thankfully empty. The boy grabbed a raggedy cloak hanging by the door and pulled it on, making sure the hood covered his head. Esthis and Vyolet imitated him, before Ellion opened the door and the three escaped to the crowded streets.

* * *

Ellion took them, going through seedy alleys to avoid the guards, and before they realized it, they had arrived to the Sept of the Baelor.

"Where is Varys?" Vyolet asked, starting to feel a bit distrusting of the boy. What the hell were they doing here? Wasn't the whole idea avoid the guards and the queen? True, the crowded hid them, but for how long?

"He's with the queen," Ellion answered her. "Couldn't make it. There he is."

"Who?" Vyolet asked, stopping, looking around apprehensive.

"Yoren," Ellion told her, pointing at the man, waiting by the entrance of an alley. "He's friend with Lord Stark. He's taking a group of prisoners from the dungeons to the Wall. We'll travel with them."

Vyolet nodded, understanding the plan. And her heart finally felt a bit of relief. She was out the Red Keep, the queen had no idea, and she would be leaving soon enough. There was just one matter.

Vyolet opened her purse and pulled one of her little bags containing her gold. She turned to Esthis and pressed it to her hand.

"Here."

"My lady?" The old lady asked, looking up at the girl, confused.

"Take it, for food and passage," Vyolet explained her. "Go to my mother and tell her what happened. Tell her the queen knows about my father, but she should know also that Lord Stark claim was truthful and King Joffrey is Jamie Lannister's bastard."

Esthis looked at the girl, shaking her head.

"Don't speak of this with anyone, but her," Vyolet warned her. "Tell her I'll be there as soon as I can, and when it's safe."

"I cannot leave you here, my lady," Esthis protested firmly. How could she leave behind the girl she had been caring for her whole life?

Vyolet sighed, looking around. They couldn't afford to lose more time.

"Esthis," Vyolet told her, grabbing her maid's hands. "If the saw me traveling with you, they'll discover me faster. This is to protect both of us. I'll go home after I'm far from here. I promise."

"My lady..."

"Esthis, please," Vyolet took a breath. "It's an order. Go back to my mother. Tell her I'm fine and I'll be home as soon as possible."

The lady didn't move and Vyolet shook her head.

"If they catch us, they'll kill you! They cannot harm me, but they'll harm you! Please..."

Esthis sighed at Vyolet's insisting pleading eyes. Finally she nodded.

"Take care, child. Promise me you'll return unharmed."

Vyolet nodded.

"I will."

Then Esthis turned to Ellion.

"And you boy. If any harm shall befall lady Vyolet, I'll kill you myself," the old lady told the boy, in an unusual threatening voice.

The boy nodded, a bit unsettled.

"Esthis. That's not proper," Vyolet chastised her, with an amused smile.

Esthis smiled back, and hugged the girl.

"My lady."

"Take care," the girl told her, as the woman nodded, and turning around, lost among the crowd.

Vyolet thought she would felt relief seeing her go, but she felt her heart ripping. Esthis was like her second mother, and she wanted to stay with her, but she knew in her heart it was the best. Nobody would harm her this way. And her mother would protect the maid once in Casterly Rock.

Vyolet felt Ellion's hand in her.

"Let's go, my lady. It's not safe."

Vyolet nodded, and let him dragged her to Yoren. Yoren was an intimidating looking guy. He was very tall, with severe eyes and a mass of black curls and bear.

"Lord Yoren," Ellion said.

"I'm not a lord, lad," the man replied sardonically. "Oh no, this is she?"

Yoren glared at Vyolet and the girl frowned confused.

"Excuse?"

"Are you aware we're trying to sneak you out of the city, girl?" Yoren asked her. "What? Did you forget your crown? Because otherwise, people may not be able to recognize you."

Vyolet glared back.

"I didn't know about this and I didn't have time to change!" She protested, not wanting to be taken by an idiot.

"As promised," Ellion told Yoren pulling out a big bag of gold.

"For fuck's sake, lad," Yoren cursed and dragged them inside the alley, making sure there was no one listening. In King's Landing, you could never be sure. There were spies everywhere.

Yoren took the money and pulled it into his coat. Then he glared at Vyolet again.

"You could at least taken off your tiara," he pointed at her head.

Vyolet opened her mouth to snap back, but her voice was drowned by shouts. The three of them looked out the alley and saw Ned Stark being dragged out the dungeons roughly by two guards. He blinked, looking almost lost, and the crowd shouted horrible things to him.

"Lord Stark," Vyolet said, her heart going out to the man who had tried to protect her.

"Wait, here," Yoren told them. "Don't let them see you."

And then he was lost in the crowd. Vyolet looked around, trying to find where he had been and her eyes fell into a child, standing on the Baelor's statue. She recognized the clothes and hair, even when they were filthy.

Vyolet gasped.

"That's Arya!"

Ellion stopped her in time, and dragged her back into the alley.

"Wait, they cannot see you!" He told her, as she had lost her mind.

"But that's Arya!" Vyolet insisted.

Ellion's replied was interrupted by the crowd falling silent, and Ned Stark's voice talking above it.

Vyolet and Ellion looked out. Ned had been taken out to a platform, surrounded by the Royal Guard. On his right was the King, the queen and Sansa, while on his left was the Council.

"I am Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Hand of the King," Stark said, then to his daughter, who smiled softly and nodded, encouraging him to keep going.

Vyolet's heart went to them. It'll be over soon, she thought. It would be humiliating. Cersei would let this go so easily, but she needed Ned alive. Everything would be fine at the end.

"I come before you, to confess my treason in the sights of gods and men," Ned Stark continued, defeated. "I betrayed the faith of my king, and the trust of my friend Robert. I swore to protect and defend his children, but before his blood was cold, I plotted to murder his son and seize the throne for myself."

His lies were received with more shouts, and a man threw a rock at him, hitting him in the head. Ned stumbled but the Hound caught him, keeping him straight.

"Let the High Septon and Baelor the Blessed bear witness to what I say," Ned continued. "Joffrey Baratheon, is the one true heir to the Iron Throne," (Joffrey smiled at his mother, and Vyolet shook her head sickened,) "by the grace of all the gods, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm."

Stark words were received with more shouts.

"As... as we sin... so do we suffer," Maester Pycelle intervened. "This man has confessed his crimes, in sight of gods and men. The gods are just, but beloved Baelor taught us they can also be merciful."

Pycelle turned to the king.

"What is to be done with this traitor, your Grace?" He asked Joffrey.

The crowd responded with shouts, asking for his death.

Joffrey smiled, and raised a hand asking for silence.

"My mother wishes me to let Lord Eddard join the Night's Watch. Stripped of all titles and powers, he would serve the realm in permanent exile. And my lady Sansa," Joffrey turned to the redheaded girl, "has begged mercy for her father."

Sansa smiled back at the king, relief flooding her.

"But they have the soft hearts of women," Joffrey declared at the crowd.

"What?" Vyolet let out, snapping her head up.

"So long as I am your king, treason shall never go unpunished," Joffrey turned to the executioner. "Ser Ilyn, bring me his head!"

The reaction was immediate. The crowd shouted with glee, a guard held back Sansa who was shouting asking mercy.

"No!"

Ellion grabbed Vyolet on time. He grabbed her by the waist, trying to pull her back to the alley, but the girl was squirming too much.

Even Cersei was trying to talk sense into her son, but Joffrey didn't listen to her. Lord Varys and Lord Baelish ran to the king's side, trying to talk him out of it too.

"Mi lady, mi lady," Ellion told Vyolet, trying to stop her.

"That bastard...!"

Ellion looked around alarmed, but the crowd was too bloodthirsty to notice Vyolet calling the king that.

"Do you want them to kill us too?!" He snapped at her.

"We need to help him," Vyolet told Ellion, turning to him. There were urgency and fear in her eyes.

"We need to stay hidden," Ellion reminded her.

"They're going to kill him!" Vyolet yelled, trying to push him away.

Ellion, cursed and pushed Vyolet's body to the wall of the alley, perhaps a bit too hard. But he was losing his grip on her.

"And they're going to kill us if they hear you!" He told her, upset.

"I can save him!" Vyolet insisted.

"Oh, can you?" Ellion replied.

"Yes, you've seen the things I can do!" Vyolet said, furious with Ellion for not letting her go.

"I saw you move a chair and hit a guard as hard as if you had lifted the chair yourself. Can you lift a rock and crush the executioner's head? Can you crush all the goddamned soldiers' heads that will come after us?! Can you?!" The boy snapped at her, shaking her to make understand.

Vyolet looked at Ned Stark who had been forced to kneel as Ilyn Payne, put on a black hood and walked to him.

"No," Vyolet replied, feeling as powerless as last night when Cersei had threatened her.

Ellion was right. Even if she got the sword out of Ilyn's Payne hands, she was sure she could kill him with it. She couldn't do any harm to the guards if they came all at once.

"No. There's nothing you can do," Ellion confirmed, sadly.

Vyolet's breath was caught on her chest as Payne took out his sword. Sansa's screaming was ringing in her ears.

"Don't look," Ellion told her softly, trying to pull her to him, but Vyolet pushed him away.

"No."

Ilyn Payne took his sword with both hands, as Ned closed his eyes, starting to pray. Not for him, but for both his daughters watching... Then Payne's sword came crashing down on his neck.

It seemed like time had stopped. Everything was in slow motion. All the noises were muffled.

Vyolet felt Ellion arms around her as her knees bent and she knew she would have fallen down if not for him. She saw red. Everything was red.

Ilyn Payne walked a few steppes in front, and grabbing Lord Starks head by the hair, he raised it in the air, blood dripping down.

Vyolet felt sick too. If she had eaten something this morning, it would be in the floor by now. She looked away from the bloodied corpse and saw Sansa had just fainted.

Ellion looked out for Yoren. This was madness and they needed to leave before it was too late. Finally, he emerged out of the crowd, carrying a child on his shoulder.

"What the fuck are you two doing out here?!" He snapped at both Ellion and Vyolet. "Come on."

Vyolet seemed to snap out of her shock by Yoren's voice and she and Ellion followed him downstairs. She then recognized the child he was carrying.

"Arya!"

"He's not Arya, girl," Yoren snapped back as he pulled a dagger. "He's a boy!"

"I'm not a boy!" Arya protested overwhelmed by what just happened and scared by Yoren and his dagger pointing at her.

"You're not a smart boy? That's what you're trying to say?" Yoren asked Arya ferociously. "You want to live boy?"

Yoren grasped a tendril of Arya's hair and swiftly cut it out. Vyolet gasped, thinking at first Yoren was going to hurt Arya, her hand closing around her stolen sword hilt.

"North boy. We're going North," Yoren grumbled as he cut the rest of Arya's hair.

Vyolet understood then. He was disguising her.

"There," Yoren grumbled when he finished, cutting Arya's hair. The girl looked up at him, her eyes shining with tears. Yoren understood. How could he not? Stark was a good man and Arya was just a child to have been through that. But Yoren himself wasn't good with feelings or comforting.

He looked up to Vyolet, and passed Arya to her.

Arya resisted until she realized who Vyolet was. She then threw herself at Vyolet, holding her by the waist tightly, shaking scared and starting to sob.

"Shh, I got you, honey. I got you," Vyolet shushed Arya, hugging her back. Her heart was breaking for her. Arya deserved any of this.

"Let's go," Yoren snapped at them, looking outside for guards. "We need to get out of here."

Then turned to Vyolet whose hood had come off.

"You put that goddamned thing on! You're gonna get us killed!"

Vyolet glared at him, pulling her hood back on. Then, grabbing Arya tightly with one hand, and Ellion with the other, they followed Yoren, down the alley.

* * *

Yoren took them to one of King's Landing's door. The bailey was full with Yoren's recruits, preparing the horses and the provisions. The place was filthy and smelled horrible.

Just before taking them to the rest of the group, Yoren purchased for Vyolet a green woolen cloak. It was ugly, large and smelled like goats. The girl took it and put it on with a complaint. She saw Yoren stuffing her purple cloak on a bag.

"Don't sell that," she told Yoren. "It has the Lannister crest. They'll recognize it and come after you. Just throw it away once we're out of the city."

Yoren grumbled something about not giving a fuck. Vyolet just glared at his cursing.

"You're Arry now, hear me?" Yoren told Arya as they walked through the alleys near the bailey. "Arry the orphan boy. No one asks an orphan too many questions, cause nobody gives three shits. What's your name?" He grabbed roughly Arya by the arm.

"Arry," Arya responded, and Yoren let her go with a light shove.

"My lord," Vyolet started chastised him, but he just gave her a smirk.

"Don't 'my lord' me, mi lady," he interrupted her, knowing she didn't like his treatment of Arya. "He needs to act like a boy so stop cuddling him. And you start to act less like the fucking queen, will you? You've a long way to travel and in bad company. I've got twenty this time—men and boys all bound for the Wall. Lord Stark gave me the pick of the dungeons, and l didn't find no little lordlings down there."

He stopped a top of stairs that over-watched his recruits.

"This lot-half of them would turn you two over to the king quick as spit for a pardon," he told them gruffly, glaring at Vyolet, who didn't seem to understand with whom she was traveling. "And the other half would do the same, except they'd rape you first. So keep to yourself, you keep a low profile—and when you piss, do it in the woods alone," he added looking at Arya.

"Wait, what about me?" Vyolet asked, worried. "It's not like I can pass for a boy anymore. Certainly not in this dress."

Yoren stopped when they reached the bailey and turned to Vyolet.

"The safety of this boy is my personal responsibility, mi lady," he told her, pointing at Arya. "Yours is just a good business. So keep to this lad's side," he nodded at Ellion, "or mine and keep your head down. They'll try to scare you but won't dare to do anything as long as they don't find you alone. Don't let them find you alone."

He pointed at her with a finger and then dragged Arya by the arm, pulling her near a caged wagon.

"You stay with this lot," Yoren told Vyolet, Ellion and Arya. "And stay or I'll lock you in the back of the wagon with these three."

There were three men on the wagon. One giant one without hair, another with a flat bloodied nose and the third had his hood on.

As Arya turned to look inside the cage, three men quickly approached Vyolet, having noticed her as she was coming down the stairs.

"What do we have here?" One of them said. He was half bald, gaunt and smelled like pee. "A lovely dove?"

Vyolet stepped back, trying to not look afraid.

"Sure, she looks so lovely," another man replied. He had lost a lot of teeth and had greasy hair. "I bet she looks even more lovely, underneath all those clothes."

Vyolet just glared at them, feeling the dagger in her sleeve. She looked up to Ellion, who had his jaw firmly clenched, and had closed his fist around his sword hilt. The girl put an arm on him, shaking her head.

"Aren't you happy we're saying how lovely you are?" The third one spat. One with a long beard. Stepping to her. Vyolet stepped back.

"An ungrateful bitch, this one," the bald one spat too.

"Do you want to lose a hand?" Ellion snapped at them enraged. He was going to let Vyolet take this.

"Oh, is she your bitch arsehole?" the greasy one asked, sneering. "Do you mind if we share?"

"Who says he's the one taking your hands?" Vyolet intervened, pulling out her sword and pointing it at them. "Touch a hair on my head and I'll chop your hands, finger by finger."

The men burst out laughing.

"This bitch..."

The one with the bear stepped to her, trying to take off her sword, but Vyolet was quicker, turning around with ease and making a deep cut on his cheek.

"Argh!" The man shouted, stepping away from Vyolet, grasping his cheek.

"You whore!" Yelled the greasy one, pulling out a dagger of his pants and launching at her. Vyolet dodged him easily, hitting his leg hard with the flat of the sword, making the man fall to the ground.

The bald one tried to attack her from behind, but Vyolet moved away, hitting him hard on his head with the hilt of the sword. Then turned to the greasy one who had the dagger up again. She easily disarmed him, taking one of his fingers with the dagger.

The man yelled as the other two looked with horror the severed finger.

"I am Lyna Tully, you greasy bastard," Vyolet replied stepping to them, her sword up, making them step back. "And I'm on my way to marry. If you touch me, I'll cut your hands off and when we reach Riverrun, well, I don't want to tell you what my new husband would do to you."

She took another step, and the men stepped back, scared.

The men walked away quickly from them as the girl glared at them, her sword still raised. As she pulled it away and turned around she noticed Arya was gone. She looked around and saw her pointing her sword at a fat boy.

Vyolet and Ellion quickly went after her.

"You want it?" Arya threatened Hot Pie, grabbing his wrist, her sword on his neck. "I'll give it to you. l already killed one fat boy. l bet you never killed anyone. l bet you're a liar. But I'm not. I'm good at killing fat boys. l like killing fat boys."

Then Hot Pie stumbled on a man. He was young with black hair and covered in soot. He was taller and stronger than Hot Pie and the boy stepped back scared.

"Like picking on the little ones, do you?" the young man asked Hot Pie threatening. "I've been hammering an anvil these past ten years. When l hit that steel, it sings. Are you gonna sing when l hit you?"

Hot Pie and the other boy ran scared and then the black haired man turned to Arya. He frowned noticing her sword and picked it up slightly.

"This is castle-forged steel," the man asked Arya. "Where'd you steal it?"

"lt was a gift," Arya replied indignantly.

"lt don't matter now," the man told her, without believing her. "Where we're going, they don't care what you've done. They've got rapers, pickpockets, highwaymen, murderers..."

"Which are you?" Arya asked him.

"Armourer's apprentice," the man replied, shrugging. "But my master got sick of me, so here l am."

"Arry, are you okay?" Vyolet's voice interrupted them, as she rushed to Arya.

"I'm fine," Arya replied, and Vyolet nodded, smiling. Then she looked up to the young man.

"Thank you," she told him, widening her smile.

"It was nothing," the man shook her head, feeling his ears turning red. "I'm Gendry, by the way." He said extending a hand.

"Lyna Tully," Vyolet replied, shaking his hand.

Gendry was preoccupied staring at Vyolet that he missed the confused look Arya gave her at the new name.

"What's a lady traveling with this lot?" Gendry asked her. "And by foot?"

Vyolet shrugged. She really needed to come with a good excuse.

"Maybe I like adventures," she replied with a smile.

"Let's go, Arry," Vyolet told Arya, passing an arm around her shoulders and pulling her away. Ellion glared at Gendry, before following them.

"Looks like you have two boyfriends now to look after you," Arya teased Vyolet with a smirk.

Vyolet gave her a look.

"Shut up."

"Come on, you sorry sons of whores!" Yoren called the recruits as the soldiers opened King's Landing's gate. "lt's a thousand leagues from here to the Wall! And winter is coming!"

Yoren sat at the wagon in front of the procession.

Vyolet pulled her hood on and, she and Arya followed him, with Ellion and Gendry behind.

As Vyolet crossed the gates without anyone stopping her, she finally could take a deep breath. She thought of a month back, how excited she had been to be here, and how quickly this beautiful place had turned into a prison.

Vyolet looked up to the blue sky and smiled. She was going home.

* * *

 **Thank you guys for reading and following this story. And for your reviews. It means the world to me.**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Dragons and Comets

...

After Ned's sudden execution, Cersei's problems just began. Her father and Jamie were fighting on the Riverlands and this wasn't going to make it easier. Ned Stark had died as a traitor who tried to kill the king. In the public eye, it was justice. But the North wouldn't see it that way. Cersei and the council could already see it. A war was uncertain, but they knew more blood would be shed. On top of that, the other Stark girl had disappeared and they hadn't been able to find her. If she was dead, Cersei didn't feel bad about it, but if discovered, the situation would be worse with the North. And finally, when they returned to the Red Keep, the guards told Cersei that Vyolet was gone.

They found the corpses of the guards in Vyolet's room. Her things and her maid's were still there, but Cersei doubted she had been kidnapped. Vyolet's bow was missing and despite leaving her jewelry behind, all her gold was gone. No, the queen was sure her niece had escaped and with help from somebody else, but who? Who had been stupid enough to help her? Maybe some men working for Stark? He had been amicable towards the girl... but no. Cersei knew Ned loved his kids more than anything. He wouldn't risk everything to save Vyolet when his daughters would be left behind. Then she thought of another possibility. Maybe someone who knew she had Targeryan blood. There were still sympathizers of the old dynasty on the country. It was those who had kept the Mad King's children alive across the Narrow Sea. Maybe they had taken Vyolet to her siblings... Maybe.

Cersei drank wine copiously. She had just too many things in her plate right now, and today was the proof that her plans had had disastrous consequences. She had gotten Robert killed with the hope she would reign through her son, but Joffrey has proved that he didn't need nor want anyone ruling in his place.

* * *

Life on the road was harder than either Vyolet or Arya could expect. Neither of them had been like that on their own-having to cook your own food, sometimes sleep on the ground and walk and walk for miles. Arya had it a little bit easier because everyone thought she was a little boy and she was left alone. Even the boys who had tried to bully her, Hot Pie and Lommy Greenhands had left her alone. Vyolet, on the other hand, had to bear everyday insinuations, vulgar comments, leers, and whistles. The men were kept at bay knowing she was protected by Yoren, Ellion or now even Gendry, and all of them had swords and could fight unlike them, so they never got too close to her. But it was so tiring. Vyolet didn't only have to watch out for royal guards but also by the several men sleeping just a few meters beside her. Because of that, her steps were slow, and she dragged her feet, wanting to be carried by the carts but she refrained, not wanting to anger Yoren. She didn't know why, but the man didn't like her. And he really didn't have a reason. Vyolet knew her care for Arya was obvious, but she hadn't compromised the girl's identity. As far as everyone knew Vyolet had just taken a like to the little boy.

Two weeks later, the group passed Hayford Castle. However, Yoren guided the group around the hill and through the village of Lady of the Leaves to avoid running into royal guards that may be wandering through town.

The village was small but it offered some benefits. Vyolet was able to have a proper bath and buy some new shoes that wouldn't cause her blisters. She also bought better supplies for Arya, Ellion and herself. She bought two bags of apples and pears, three loaves of bread and two pieces of cheese. She also bought four waterskins. She gave one to Arya, one to Ellion, and —after Yoren refused the third with a scuff and a curse—, she gave it to Gendry.

"I can't accept it," Gendry tried to give it back but Vyolet just smiled, and shook her head.

"Please, just take it. You'll find it very useful, you'll see."

Gendry stubbornly shook her head and Vyolet pouted.

"You know, you'll hurt my feelings. I bought it thinking of you."

Gendry smirked.

"I know you tried to bribe Yoren with it."

Gendry raised an eyebrow and Vyolet cracked a smile.

"Well, alright, I did that. But you still will hurt my feelings."

Gendry sighed, taking it.

"Mi lady," he thanked her with a grin an exaggerated bow of his head. Vyolet laughed and Gendry flashed a bright smile, his ears reddening and his hands sweating.

Arya looked at him, shaking her head. She found him and Ellion sad, trying to gain Vyolet's favor at every turn. And they said girls were silly.

Behind them, Vyolet heard some men whistling at her and making comments. The girl shrank, feeling uncomfortable.

"So generous, little dove," a man called Barren yelled after her.

"Would you be a bit generous with me?" Trevyr shouted. "Anything you want to give me I'll take. Your little hand, your sweet mouth, your hot-"

"Keep talking and I'll chop off all of those," Gendry yelled back at the men, giving them a nasty glare. They would still keep going but Ellion turned to them as well, placing a hand on the hilt of his sword.

Vyolet gave them a thankful smile. Vyolet saw Arya tensing every time those guys yelled at Vyolet, but as long as they thought she was a boy she was safe.

* * *

The Royal Council was gathered along Queen Cersei to discuss matters of the crown. It was Joffrey's name day and the whole court was outside watching men killing each other, but the queen didn't have time for that with the news a white raven on an ornamented golden cage in front of her had brought.

"The conclave has met, considered reports from maesters all over the Seven Kingdoms, and declared this great summer done at last. The longest summer in living memory," Maester Pycelle declared to the council.

"The peasants say, a long summer means an even longer winter," Varys told the queen.

"A common superstition," Pycelle replied with disdain.

"We have enough wheat for a five-year winter," Lord Baelish said, shrugging. "If it lasts any longer, we'll have fewer peasants."

"The city's drowning in refugees, Your Grace, fleeing the war," Lord Slynt told the queen. "We have nowhere to house them. And with winter coming, it'll only get worse."

"You command the city watch, do you not, Lord Slynt?" Cersei asked him, without even looking at him, but fidgeting with the ornamented golden cage.

"I do, Your Grace."

Cersei nodded for a servant to take the cage away, then turned to Slynt.

"And are you not a lord at my command?" She asked.

"I owe my title and lands to your generosity, Your Grace," he replied a bit tense.

"Then do your job," Cersei replied coldly. "Shut the gates to the peasants. They belong in the field, not our capital."

"Yes, Your Grace."

Slynt bowed his head.

A whistle interrupted their meeting and all turned to the door where Tyrion Lannister showed up, strolling with confidence and a dirty armor.

"Don't get up," he said with a smile, seeing Cersei's annoyed walked up to her.

"More ravishing than ever, big sister," he told her teasingly, giving her a kiss on the looked away angry and annoyed. "War agrees with you. Forgive the interruption. Carry on."

Tyrion said as he surrounded the table to the empty chair at the bottom of the table.

"What are you doing here?" Cersei asked him annoyed.

"It's been a remarkable journey," Tyrion replied sitting heavily on the chair and reaching for a glass cup and the wine decanter. "I pissed off the edge of the Wall, I slept in a sky cell, I fought with the hill tribes," Tyrion poured himself a cup of wine. "So many adventures, so much to be thankful for."

"What are you doing here? This is the small council," Cersei spat.

"Yes, well, I do believe the Hand of the King is welcome at all small council meetings," Tyrion replied, shrugging.

"Our father is Hand of the King," Cersei said.

"Yes, but in his absence..."

Tyrion produced a rolled parchment and gave it to Varys. The eunuch opened the letter, looking around confused.

"Your father has named Lord Tyrion to serve as hand in his stead while he fights-"

Varys didn't finish the sentence when the queen smacked her hands on the table, standing up.

"Out! All of you out!" She shouted and the four men scrambled to their feet and left with quick bows.

Tyrion stared at his sister with a satisfied smirk.

"I would like to know how you tricked Father into this," Cersei asked Tyrion, venomously.

"If I were capable of tricking Father, I'd be emperor of the world by now," Tyrion said sarcastically. "You brought this on yourself.

"I've done nothing," Cersei replied, sitting down next to her bother.

"Quite right, you did nothing when your son called for Ned Stark's head," Tyrion said harshly. "Now the entire North has risen up against us."

"I tried to stop it," Cersei told him.

"Did you?" Tyrion mocked her. "You failed. That bit of theater will haunt our family for a generation."

"Robb Stark is a child," Cersei said with a sneer.

"Who's won every battle he's fought," Tyrion replied, annoyed. "Do you understand we're losing the war?"

"What do you know about warfare?" His sister mocked him.

"Nothing. But I know people," Tyrion said. "And I know that our enemies hate each other almost as much as they hate us."

"Joffrey is king," Cersei told him.

"Joffrey is king," Tyrion replied, sarcastically.

"You are here to advise him."

"I'm only here to advise him. And if the king listens to what I say, the king might just get his Uncle Jaime back."

That got Cersei's attention.

"How?" She asked.

"You love your children. It's your one redeeming quality," Tyrion told her. "That and your cheekbones. The Starks love their children as well. And we have two of them."

"One," Cersei replied.

Tyrion made a pause, giving her a look.

"One?"

"Arya, the little animal, she disappeared."

"Disappeared?" Tyrion repeated sarcastically. "What, in a puff of smoke?" Tyrion sighed shaking his head. "We had three Starks to trade. You chopped one's head off and let another escape. Father will be furious."

Tyrion watched Cersei closed knowing his words were having the desired effect. She knew she had screwed up. Good.

"However, as much as I would enjoy seeing that, you may still make up for it," Tyrion continued, despite enjoying make Cersei feel bad.

The queen turned to him.

"Jamie told father about our little niece, Vyolet," Tyrion replied, raising an eyebrow. "Is it true? I have to confess despite my liking to her I haven't seen her in quite a while, and from what I remember I couldn't tell if she looks like a Targaryen or not."

Tyrion kept watching Cersei close, knowing it was true.

"She is," Cersei replied tightly. Damn Jamie and his lose mouth. He wasn't supposed to tell their father. At least not yet.

Tyrion nodded, scratching his chin.

"Father, however, ask me to tell you to wait on this idea of yours to marry her to Joffrey," Tyrion told his sister. "Right now with the North coming for us, it would be better if Sansa is the one betrothed to the king. But we need to keep Vyolet close."

"Well be my guest and look for her because she's gone," Cersei couldn't help but snap. She had already too many troubles to add the ones created by her father and Tyrion.

"Let me guess, she disappeared too?" Tyrion mocked her.

"She escaped during Ned Stark's execution. Someone helped her," Cersei snapped, glaring at Tyrion. As if any of this was her fault!

Tyrion shook his head and smiled at Cersei amused.

"What?"

"It must be odd for you to be the disappointing child," her little brother gloated.

* * *

As they set up camp for the day Vyolet saw the red comet flying on the sky. It was bright, marking the sky as an open wound. She remembered Esthis telling her that the red comets were a sign of a war. A big war coming their way, and with Ned Stark's death, Vyolet couldn't expect anything else.

She heard a few whistles and her blood boiled her face reddening. This was going too far. There was no way she would reach the North without any of these fools making an unwanted advance on her, and she was tired to have to be always accompanied by Ellion, Yoren or Gendry. She couldn't even relieve herself alone, goddamit! She had enough. She shouldn't be scared. She was a Lannister... and a Targaryan, she reminded herself. She wasn't going to be afraid of some assholes.

Vyolet looked up to Ellion who was making a fire.

"I'll be back. I need to talk to Arya," she told him.

"I'll go with you," Ellion said, immediately dropping what he was doing.

"No, it's okay," Vyolet replied quickly, stopping him. "They're over there."

Ellion sat back.

"Oh... alright."

The girl heard the disappointment in his voice and saw him glaring at Gendry who was with Arya. She would have to talk to him later. She knew he was jealous of Gendry.

Vyolet waited for Ellion to be distracted by his work and started walking away lightly. She looked up to the men who had been whistling and saying things to her and glared at them. She made sure they saw her going alone to the woods. It wasn't long when she heard footsteps behind her. Vyolet turned around and found herself surrounded by Barren, Trevyr, Crool and other men with lecherous grins.

Vyolet smiled back.

* * *

Ellion had just finished piling the wood for the fire when Arya approached him.

"Ellion, where is Vyolet?" Arya asked him.

The boy looked up from what he was doing.

"I thought she was with you," he told her, frowning.

"Maybe she's with Gendry," Arya said, shrugging.

Elliot's frown deepened, feeling an empty feeling in his stomach.

"Maybe," he said, not wanting to show how upset he was.

Ellion stood up and walked with Arya until they found Gendry who was helping Yoren unloading some boxes.

"Hey, where's Lyna?" Arya asked Gendry.

"Wasn't she with you?" Gendry replied, frowning as well.

Ellion, Gendry, and Arya looked at each other with horror, realizing what could be happening to her.

"Fucking hell," Yoren snapped, spitting at the ground. "I told the damn girl to not wander alone. Come with me, I hope we're not too late."

The three followed him quickly pulling his swords, calling Vyolet by her fake name, almost desperately.

Finally, they saw a rather large group of men shouting and laughing.

"Hey, you sons of bitches, get away from...!"

The men burst into laughter, breaking away from Vyolet. She was fine. In fact, she was standing in the middle of them, smiling as the men laughed. Two of the men were holding down Trevyr, who was glaring at Vyolet, while gagged by an apple.

Yoren, Ellion, Gendry, and Arya stood there baffled and confused. Barren turned to Yoren still laughing.

"Sorry, ser. Lady Lyna is bloody funny," he told him, pointing at the girl, who flashed them a sweet smile.

"You flatter me, Barren."

"Lady Lyna, would you like me to bring back a deer or rabbits?" Croll asked her, politely.

"Hunt whatever you can, Croll," Vyolet replied, kindly. "And if you find berries, bring them as well. I swear you'll eat like kings."

The men agreed with happy yells.

"Thank you, my lady," said Croll, bowing to her.

"We'll take care of this piece of shit," Luras, another man big as a bear told her, kicking the leg of Trevyr, who was still bounded and gagged. Trevyr looked up and glared at Luras.

"Thank you, boys," Vyolet flashed them a last smile before turning around.

"What?" She asked Yoren, Ellion, Gendry, and Arya, still holding their weapons awkwardly, as she walked passed them to the camp.

"What in the bloody hell?" Yoren spat to the ground, still not understanding what just happened and Arya could help laughing. Now that was fucking impressive, she thought, following Vyolet quickly.

* * *

Yoren's men were setting up their camp. It had been three weeks now since they had left King's Landing and Vyolet was starting to feel safe. Barren, Croll, Luras and the rest of the men were now working for her, helping her with chores and most importantly, keeping her and Arya safe.

Vyolet finished sewing a couple of blouses. She folded them and left them aside before looking for Arya. As she looked for the little girl Croll approached her.

"Lady Lyna I filled the barrels with water," Croll told her, raising up the barrels to show her.

"Thank you, Croll. Would you mind start boiling a pot of water?"

"Not at all, mi lady," the man bowed his head and walked away, quickly. Then Barren approached her.

"Lady Lyna, I gathered three piles of wood. It would be good for cooking and keep the fire for the night," said the big man with a smile.

Vyolet turned to him, impressed.

"Three piles, really?"

"Look."

The man pointed at the huge piles near a tree, next to a pyre.

"Gods, Barren, I am amazed," Vyolet replied with a smile. "You did a fine job. I was going to give you five, but I think you earned eight."

"Thank you so much, Lady Lyna," Barren thanked her, before going away to look for more chores to do.

"Eight what?" A grumpy raspy voice startled the girl.

Vyolet gasped and turned to see Yoren, glaring down at her.

"You scared me," she said, placing a hand to her chest.

"I scared you? Not the brutes you have doing your chores?" Yoren asked, buffing.

Vyolet frowned at his tone, crossing her arms.

"What don't you like me Yoren?" the girl asked him. "I've never done anything to you."

"I don't bloody like anyone, girlie," Yoren snapped. "You're not different than the rest."

It was Vyolet's turn to buff.

"Please. You don't treat anyone this way. Hell, not even Hot Pie, and he ate half the dinner two days ago or those men in the cage."

"Because none of them are spoiled little brats," Yoren snapped, angrily. "D'you think you can just bribe everyone around you? A Lannister through and through, huh?"

Yoren turned around and left stomping hard.

Vyolet glared at the man feeling an empty feeling in her stomach. She was a Lannister and had always been proud of it, until now. His words were an insult nothing more. The girl just sighed, kicking a rock near her feet. She wouldn't let Yoren's words get to her. He would show him there was more to her.

* * *

Arya was taking a pile of wood to the camp when someone called her.

"Lovely boy," it was one of the men in the caged cart that was tied to a tree.

Arya frowned and approached him.

The man who called her it was handsome, she realized. And he had red long hair with strands of white on one side. His head was leaning on the bars of the cart, his clear eyes staring at her.

"What do you want?" Arya snapped.

"A man has a thirst," the man spoke in a peculiar way, showing her a rusty cup. "A man does not drink for a day and a night. A boy could make a friend."

Arya walked to the cart, just as Vyolet walked behind noticing her.

"I have friends," she stated, raising her chin.

"Arry..." Vyolet called the girl, not wanting her to be close to those three.

"Give us beer before I skin you!" One of the men, a fat one with pointy teeth snapped at the girl, hitting the bars, startling Vyolet.

Vyolet glared at him.

"A man does not choose his companions," the redheaded man told the girls apologetically. "These two, they have no courtesy. A man must ask for forgiveness."

He bowed his head, his eyes going from Vyolet to Arya.

"You're called Arry?" He asked Arya, who nodded. "This man has the honor to be Jaqen H'ghar," he bowed his head again, "once of the Free City of Lorath."

"Beer, you little shits!" The fat man interrupted him with a growl. "Get us beer!"

Arya threw the wood away, taking one of the sticks.

"You should have asked nicely," Arya told him, hitting the man's hand holding the bar.

The man growled and tried to hold the stick, but Arya was faster and kept hitting his hand until he pulled them back to him.

"Arry, that's enough," Vyolet told the girl, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Aah! Come closer and I'll shove that stick up your bunghole and fuck you bloody," the fat man threatened Arya.

"The boy has more courage than sense," Jaqen observed with a smile, thoroughly amused.

"Come here!" The fat man yelled.

"You shut your mouth," Vyolet snapped at the man, glaring at him. "Or we won't give you any food in a fortnight. Let's go."

She pushed Arya away as the man cursed after her.

"Come here, you whore...!" The fat man now yelled at Vyolet, who pursed her lips but ignored him.

Gendry was waiting for them, carrying a pile of wood.

"Yoren said none of us were to go near those three," he said, looking down at Arya.

"They don't scare me," Arya assured Gendry, shrugging.

"Then you're stupid. They scare me," Gendry replied.

Arya just buffed and walked away.

Vyolet shook her head, not being able to hold back her smile.

"I don't think you can make someone do what you want by calling them stupid," she told Gendry, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry, m'lady. I didn't mean you," Gendry replied quickly, afraid he had offended her, but Vyolet kept smiling.

"I know, don't worry," she dismissed it with a wave of her hand. "And you can call me Lyna, Gendry. My lady is too formal. And we are friends aren't we?"

"Yes, mi... Lyna," Gendry replied quickly.

Vyolet widened her smile.

Gendry held the wood he was carrying tighter and extended a hand to take the pile of wood Arya had dropped.

"Let me help you," Vyolet said, and picked up the wood quickly.

"No, I can do it, mi... I mean, Lyna," Gendry tried to take the wood from Vyolet's arms but she moved away giving him a loo.

"I can do it," the girl said firmly, with a smile. "And Yoren had been nastier than usual. Don't want to give him an excuse to think worse of me. He called me a spoiled brat," she told Gendry as they walked away.

"I don't know many ladies, but I've never seen one helping as you do," Gendry said. "I would never call you spoiled."

Vyolet smiled, blushing lightly.

"Thank you, Gendry."

They put the wood on the already big piles. Vyolet dusted herself off.

"So, I know it's a big mystery and all, but where are you going, mi lady?"

Vyolet raised her eyebrows.

"I mean, Lyna. I know it's not of mi business, I just..."

"No, it's alright," Vyolet said with a smile. "I hum, I am going to Casterly Rock," she replied in a low voice.

Gendry frowned.

"Casterly Rock?"

Vyolet looked around, startled but no one was listening.

"Gendry, you mustn't tell anyone," she told him, in a whisper. "There's... bad people, after me. I cannot just trust anyone. So please, keep this to yourself."

Gendry nodded.

"No, I-I understand. Don't worry, I won't say anything," Gendry assured her, extending his hand to take her hand and then retrieved it. He looked away flushed and Vyolet smiled.

"But it is a long way from here to Casterly Rock," Gendry told her, in a whisper, while wiping his sweaty hands on his pants, discretely. "It may be dangerous."

Vyolet nodded.

"I know, but I have to do it."

"Are you taking Arry with you?" Gendry asked her.

Vyolet frowned, biting her lip.

She hadn't thought about that. Casterly Rock was much closer than the North. She would have to go leave the girl behind with Yoren. She was sure he'll protect Arya, but still...

"I could go with you Lady Lina," Gendry told her, apparently still not comfortable with speaking to her like his equal. "Go with you two an protect you. Ellion is going with you too, ain't he?"

"I-I don't know yet," Vyolet replied, earnestly. She didn't know yet what to do. She had been so glad to escape King's Landing and so preoccupied with the men around her that she hadn't thought things through. She had thought about going to Casterly Rock. That was her home and where her mother was, but that would be the first place for Cersei to look. She bet she had already sent a raven, informing the castle to be alert for her. But if she didn't go there, where could she go?

* * *

"There you are."

Vyolet looked up, a bit startled. She had been so deep into her thoughts she hadn't heard the steps.

"Here I am," she told Ellion as the boy sat next to her on the fallen tree trunk.

"Arya was looking for you. She was worried," he told her, noticing her vague eyes and worried face.

"I'm sorry, I'll be there in a moment," she replied. Even her voice sounded sad.

"Are you alright, mi lady?" Ellion asked her, concerned.

Vyolet smiled and turned to him.

"You of all people call me lady?" She asked him teasingly.

Ellion shrugged, smiling.

"You are mi lady."

Vyolet's smile faded.

"I am not. And right now I am nothing, just a fugitive."

Ellion frowned at her sad demeanor. What had brought this?

"You are a Lannister... and a Targaryen. Your father was a king," Ellion said.

"Then I'm a bastard," Vyolet replied bitterly. "Waters, not Lannister nor Targaryen."

"That's not you," Ellion told her, shaking his head. "I can see it. All can see it. It's probably why Yoren it's like that with you."

"You can see what?" Vyolet turned to him.

"You're a leader," Elliong shrugged. "If not, how you convinced those guys to leave you alone and to help more?"

"You're still curious, aren't you?"

Ellion just smiled.

Vyolet looked away and shrugged. He was building this picture in his head that wasn't hers.

"When I was surrounded by them I just talked them out of it."

Ellion frowned, confused.

"How did you talk ten men out of...?"

"I just put things into perspective," Vyolet replied. "I could kill them with my sword when they would try to touch me or they could be nice and I would pay them."

Ellion still looked confused.

"There's a little town near the wall," Vyolet explained. "If they sneak out they can have as many whores as they want. They preferred the many whores. I've been paying them since then. A Lannister always pays his debts. So you see, I'm not better or cleverer than them. I don't even know what to do."

"I'm taking you home," Ellion told her firmly.

"Yes, but then what?" Vyolet asked, huffing. "That's the first place Cersei is going to look into. I can't just show up there. My mother won't be able to protect me when her own soldiers turn me back to King's Landing and to Joffrey. I'll have to stay away for a while, hidden."

Ellion nodded.

"Alright. I'll hide with you. I'll protect you."

Vyolet shook her head.

"Thank you, but you don't know what you're offering."

"I'm not leaving you alone," Ellion insisted, firmly.

"Ellion, if they find us they won't harm me, but they would kill you," Vyolet told him exasperated. He must understand it was not safe to stay with her.

"You've never seen me fight and you already have little faith in my abilities," Ellion teased her with a smile, but Vyolet didn't return it.

"I'm just stating facts," she snapped. "It doesn't matter how good you are, you can't go against twenty men!"

"Maybe but I don't care about that," Ellion said a bit more seriously, shrugging. "I don't mind dying to protect you."

"I don't want you to die," Vyolet replied a bit horrified.

"Then I won't die," Ellion smiled.

Vyolet shook her head, annoyed at his teasing. He didn't see the danger!

"Are you mocking me?"

"Would you be angry if I did, mi lady?" Ellion replied, his smirk growing.

Vyolet gave him a look. Ellion sighed and stopped smiling.

"I won't leave you alone," he told Vyolet seriously, looking her in the eye. "And I won't die. I swore to Varys I was going to protect you and that's what I'm going to do."

Vyolet started to protesting but Ellion shook his head interrupting her.

"First we need to put a few miles more between King's Landing and us. And then, well, Yoren is taking Arya to her mother and brother. We can always go with them instead."

Vyolet frowned.

"Are you mad? With the Starks? I'm a Lannister. They'll take me as a prisoner as soon as I step on the North," she told him.

"I thought you said your name was Waters."

Vyolet gave him a look, not amused. Ellion raised his hands, turning serious again.

"Look, you took care of Arya," he told Vyolet gently. "You helped her escape and that little girl adores you. I'm sure she can talk to her family so they won't hurt you."

Vyolet shook her head.

"Cersei still has Sansa," she reminded him, shaking her head. "Don't you think her mother would trade me for her? There's no way..."

"There's always a way," Ellion said, taking her chin in his hand, and turning her to him. "You're smarter than you think. And stronger. You may not be a Lannister nor a Targaryen, but you're a dragon. Nothing can't hold you down."

Vyolet held his stare for like what it seemed forever and when she looked up to the sky she remembered that red comet from weeks ago. Red and shiny. Leaving a red trail behind. Like fire...


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Dreams and Nightmares

...

After her talk with Ellion, Vyolet felt considerably better. She now had a plan of action. She wasn't sure if it could work, but it was time she grabbed some control of her life.

As the men finish preparing camp, Vyolet went to town with Arya and Barren. They bought bread, onions and a couple of chicken and they found an apple tree on their way back, so they collected as many as possible.

Croll had only found a couple of squirrels but complemented the chicken nicely and made a quite tasty dish thanks to Hot Pie who had a gift for cooking.

They all ate until they were full and happy and then Yoren let them drank a bit of ale while they talked loudly around the campfire. Vyolet didn't participate as usual. She just stuffed a roll of bread with a bit of meat and wrapped a cloth around it. Then stuffed it into her pocket along with a shiny red apple.

Vyolet excused herself, as she was going to sleep but walked a bit more ahead, knowing that the men and Arya were too distracted with full bellies and funny stories.

The girl crossed the dark ground to the caged cart. The three men were still and peaceful, snoring loudly. The girl approached the man who had talked to her and Arya earlier. The polite one. She knew it was him because he was the smaller one. Not to mean he was a short man, but compared to the other two even Yoren looked tiny.

She stopped, looking at the dark form of the man. He was facing away from her, so she wasn't sure if he was asleep or not. The girl raised a hand, watching closely his and tapped on his shoulder quickly. She didn't want to give him a chance to grab her if he wasn't as polite as in the afternoon.

"Hum... Jack?" Vyolet said in a whisper.

"It's Jaqen, lovely girl," the man's voice startled her. He turned to her, his mouth twisting into a smirk, his eyes shining with the moonlight. Vyolet smiled a bit awkwardly.

"Sorry, I'm bad remembering names," she replied.

"It's alright," Jaqen said, bowing his head. "What can a man do for a girl at this late hour?"

Vyolet glanced at the other prisoners.

"Are those two asleep?"

"They are," Jaqen told her.

"Good. I brought you water," Vyolet replied, pulling out her waterskin from her cloak.

Jaqen rose an eyebrow.

"Have you had water yet?" Vyolet asked him, shrugging.

"No, a man has not," Jaqen replied, his smirk widening.

"Well here. It's clean, it has nothing..."

"A man trusts a girl," Jaqen assured her, grabbing his cup and extending it out of the cage to her. Vyolet took out the cork and filled the cup with water.

Jaqen bowed his head, thankfully and took the cup to his mouth.

"And this," Vyolet said, pulling a shiny red apple from her pocket. "I'm guessing you haven't eaten anything yet."

"No. Thank you," Jaqen said, grabbing the fruit.

Vyolet nodded and pulled now the roll of bread with meat wrapped on a cloth.

"I have bread too," she said, handing it to him. "And if you want I can give you more water."

"A girl is very generous," Jaqen told her with an amused smile as he took the bread and extended his again empty cup.

Vyolet shrugged, pouring more water.

"Well, you ask nicely. They didn't."

She nodded at the sleeping brutes.

"A man will have that in mind," Jaqen said softly. "A man doesn't know a girl's name."

"Oh, it's Lyna Tully," Vyolet smiled.

Jaqen rose an eyebrow.

"Tully?"

"Yes. What?" Vyolet replied, confused at his tone and his amused smile.

"A man knows a girl is not being sincere," the man shrugged, taking a bite of the apple.

Vyolet hid her shock successfully from her face, and she made her voice as sweet and innocent as possible. She even smiled in a flirty manner, to distract the man from a dangerous thought.

"I am being sincere," she told him, her voice as soft as silk.

She heard him chuckle and irritated her.

"A girl is a good liar," the man said, bowing his head, "but the girl's story and her appearance doesn't match."

Vyolet frowned confused.

"What do you mean? That I'm lying about being a lady?" She asked him a bit indignantly.

"Not that a man can tell, lovely girl," Jaqen replied. "A girl walks with the pride and confidence of a high born lady. And a girl has the dress and the jewels of a high born lady... but the cloak of a shepherd. A man must ask, why does a high born lady needs to dress with such ugly piece of clothing? I imagine the smell mustn't be better," he added raising an eyebrow at the cloak.

Vyolet couldn't help blushing, but she was sure he couldn't possibly know in the dark. She stared at this peculiar man, knowing she wouldn't be able to deceive him as the other men in camp. He was too clever, so he had to step it up.

"I lost my cloak and this is the only one Yoren could find," Vyolet shrugged, making sure to glance at the cloak with disdain. It was true it was smelly, but it had kept her safe, hiding her identity so she didn't mind it a bit.

Jaqen however, didn't change his smile.

"Just so," he said. "But why does a high born lady needs to travel with a group of thieves and murderers going North to the Wall? Why a girl left her servants and her carriage on the city?"

Vyolet repressed a glare, her irritation growing. But she couldn't just leave him thinking gods know who. What if he tells someone?

"Not that is any of your business," Vyolet said coldly, "but it's for security reasons. Lord Edvund was angry that her daughter had been cast aside from me to marry Lord Robyn and I've received several death threats," Vyolet made a pause, making sure to glance at the woods as if she was fearing someone appearing suddenly there. "This was suggested as the best way to proceed."

Vyolet shrugged. Jaqen nodded, biting the apple.

"The story is better, lovely girl, but still a man doesn't see any guards to protect you from these threats," he told her, his smirk showing again. "In fact, a girl has had to protect herself since the beginning of this journey when those three men attacked her."

Vyolet felt her heart falling to her knees. Has he been watching her since that day? Who was this man? He had been kind and polite but there was a reason the other two men in the cage hadn't chew him alive. A reason that she didn't know but it chilled her blood.

"Also a man has noticed the girl's sword," Jaqen continued, his eyes shining mischievously. "That's a Lannister's soldiers sword, yes? Why a high born lady needs a soldier's sword to protect herself from dangerous threats, a man wonders?"

Vyolet opened her mouth to make a quick explanation but Jaqen interrupted her.

"Furthermore, a man knows the girl won over these men by paying them," he said nodding at the men surrounding the campfire. "A tactic used infamously by the Lannisters, not the Tullys."

Vyolet's eyes widened softly, betraying her secret.

"A Lannister lady huh?" Jaqen smiled amusedly. "A man is curious about why a high born Lannister lady has the need to protect herself by such rudimentary means. Why she has been forced to travel with murders and conceal her identity? A man thinks she's running from the powerful people in King's Landing. The King and the Queen, perhaps?"

Vyolet raised her eyebrows, looking at him as he were a madman. Change of tactics.

"I don't know what you're talking about. You must be mad, probably why you're locked."

"A lovely girl knows a man speaks the truth," Jaqen teased her.

Vyolet pulled her sword and pointed it at his face, merely an inch away from her cheek. Jaqen didn't even blink.

"Then I should kill you then," Vyolet said, with a mean smile. "I will tell Yoren you tried to hurt me. It won't be difficult. You can't run after all," she told him glancing at the bars surrounding him.

"A lovely girl has more sense than the girl posing as a boy," Jaqen said, his voice sounding both impressed and amused, bowing her head at her.

Vyolet froze at his words, but recover quickly. Of course, she figured out Arya if he had discovered her. Well then, this killing would be more than justified.

Jaqen's hand, quick as an attacking snake, grabbed Vyolet's spare hand, taking her by surprise. His hold was gentle but firm. And staring into his eyes Vyolet somehow understood that if he had wanted to kill her he could have done it already, despite him being in the cage and despite her holding a sword.

"A girl should not be worried about a man spoiling any secret," he assured her, his eyes shining in the dark.

"Why not?" Vyolet asked him, glaring at him. "Any men in here would do it for a reward."

"A man has no interest in rewards," Jaqen replied shrugging. "And a girl was kind with a man. A man will not forgive that."

He bowed his head, his eyes fixed on hers. He was being sincere, she knew it. Still, it would be stupid to trust him, despite her instinct telling her to do it. Jaqen smiled, knowing she didn't trust him but they reached a wordless understanding.

Jaqen let her hand go and Vyolet pulled down her sword.

"What did you do so bad it got you here?" She asked him, nodding at the cage.

Jaqen smirked.

"A girl is curious."

Vyolet rose her eyebrows.

"You know my secret," the girl shrugged. "You should tell me yours. I know why those two are in here but you..." Vyolet shook her head, frowning. "You're too nice. That's even worse."

"Is it worse to have manners?" Jaqen asked her, teasingly.

"Where are you from?" Vyolet changed her question.

"A girl asks too many questions," Jaqen said, widening his smile.

"I just like to know the man who could get me killed."

Jaqen nodded.

"A wise thing to do. A girl doesn't have to worry about a man. A man may be locked in here, but a man has honor. A man swears that both lovely girls don't have to worry about him. A girl has a friend on a man."

"You say that, but you won't answer my questions."

"A man is from Lorath, lovely girl. A fact a man have already told you and the small girl. A lovely girl is too clever but too forgetful. You should not."

Vyolet frowned, a bit indignant.

"I remember you mentioned a free city, I didn't remember which one," she replied quickly. "And you didn't tell me why you are here. I would've remembered that."

Jaqen's smile widened.

"I delivered the gift of death on several men, lovely girl."

"Several?" Vyolet frowned, feeling a light shiver running down her spine.

Jaqen nodded.

"Just so."

"Did they deserve it?" Vyolet asked him.

"Death reaches everyone, lovely girl, not only the ones who deserve it," Jaqen replied, raising an eyebrow.

"I know that," Vyolet said coldly. "Especially the ones who don't deserve it."

Jaqen looked at the girl, his smile fading out of politeness.

"A girl has lost someone," he said.

Vyolet smiled bitterly and shook her head.

"Not this girl."

Loud shouts and laugh startled Vyolet and she turned around, noting some of the men were leaving the campfire.

"I have to go," Vyolet told Jaqen, turning to him. "Do you want more water before I leave?"

Jaqen nodded and extended his cup one more time. Vyolet filled it a last time, then she tucked the waterskin on her belt.

"Sleep well, lovely girl," Jaqen told her a slight smile appearing on his lips.

Vyolet stared at him for a moment before nodding and walking away.

She was going to check on Arya but Ellion suddenly blocked her path.

"What were you doing? That man is dangerous," he told her worriedly.

"I know. I tried to befriend him," Vyolet said, shrugging.

Ellion looked at her as if she had lost her mind.

"What? Are you mad?"

Vyolet gave him a look.

"I'm thinking ahead, Ellion. You don't know if those guys would escape at some point. And Jaqen keep the others too in line. It wouldn't hut to have him on our side."

Ellion kept looking at her as if she was crazy.

"Jaqen? You know his name?"

"He asked Arya for water in the afternoon and he told us his name. And I was being careful," Vyolet patted her sword. "So stop it already. I'm fine."

Ellion was about to protest but Vyolet had quite enough of it. She walked pass him going to make Arya go to sleep.

* * *

When the morning came it was colder and chillier than yesterday. Vyolet wrapped herself tighter in her smelly cloak as she went to the woods with Arya to relieve themselves.

When they return to camp, most of the men had woken up already, starting to boil some water to break their fast.

As Vyolet and Arya helped Hot Pie to prepare a stew with the meat leftovers from last night, Vyolet felt someone staring at her. She thought it may have been Ellion, who she hadn't talked with since last night, but it was that man from Lorath, leaning on the bars of the cage languidly as if he were on a comfortable chair instead of that metal cart.

He smiled at her and bowed his head. Vyolet nodded back acknowledging him, but a cold shiver ran down her spine. As she turned around she realized it was fear. Something about that man really scared him. It could be the fact that he knew her secret and Arya's and could use it at any time but it wasn't really that. She did believe he would keep her secret, but still, something was disturbing her greatly.

Ellion noticed too Jaqen staring at both Vyolet and Arya. He glared back at the Lorathi man who looked rather amused.

Luckily they ate their meal rather fast, they took down the camp and they were on the road again. The caged cart at the end of the caravan.

Vyolet then walked ahead with Arya, as the girl chatted happily about the stories from... Vyolet had missed.

"Listen, Arya," Vyolet told her in a whisper, interrupting Arya's vivid description of... stabbing another man. The little girl turned to her.

Vyolet chose her words carefully.

"What does your mother think of my family?"

Arya frowned.

"Why are you asking?" The girl asked.

"I don't think it's wise to go directly to my mother," Vyolet confessed. "That's the first place the queen would look for me. And believe me, the fact my mother is a Lannister won't save her from Cersei's rage or Tywin's."

Arya's frown deepened, worried.

"But why don't you just come with me to the North?"

"I thought that as an option," Vyolet nodded. "However, I don't think your mother or brother will receive me with open arms. Especially after what happened to your father."

"I'll talk to them. I'll make them listen," Arya told her, firmly. "You are not like Joffrey or Cersei," she practically spat the names. "You're different. I'll help you."

Vyolet smiled at the girl and Arya smiled back.

"Thank you, Arry," Vyolet replied, teasingly, messing up the girl's hair.

* * *

Vyolet was helping Arya and Gendry built the firepit, when Elliot approached carrying wood. He dropped it in the pile next to them and crouched beside Vyolet.

"Can we talk?" Ellion asked Vyolet, but she didn't even look up.

"I'm busy," she said, keep piling wood up. By the corner of her eye, she noticed Gendry and Arya's confused looks.

"Vy-Lyna, please," Ellion insisted.

"What?" Vyolet snapped, turning to him. She glared at him.

Ellion sighed.

"I'm sorry," he told her and Vyolet's glare disappeared.

"You're sorry?" She asked, frowning, confused.

Ellion nodded. He lowered his voice, noticing Gendry and Arya's attentive look.

"I should have trusted you last night," Ellion apologized. "Because I do trust you. I swear. It's just, I can't help distrusting others. Working in Casterly Rock and then King's Landing you learn that no one really is your friend."

"I am your friend," Vyolet assured him.

"That's not what I meant."

Vyolet sighed, dusting off her hands and standing up. Ellion did as well, looking at her.

"Listen, you're not the only one who grew up among disloyal liars," she told him, taking his hand in hers. "I don't trust that man, Jaqen. I would be stupid to do so. But he could be useful."

Ellion nodded again. He didn't think that way but he didn't have time to change Vyolet's mind because her conversation was cut off by horses. And not just any horses. Vyolet could see the shiny gold armors before they were too close.

"Dammit!" The girl swore.

"What are gold cloaks doing so far from King's Landing?" Gendry asked just as Vyolet grabbed Arya by the arm and pulled the girl along with herself behind the enormous wood pile.

Ellion tensed and moved next to the pile so his body would hide them as well. Gendry watched them, frowning puzzled.

"What are you doing?" He asked them.

"They're looking for us," Arya told him in a whisper. Vyolet hugged Arya to herself, shielding her as well.

"You in command here?" One of the guards asked Yoren.

Yoren, who had been discharcing supplies from a cart, turned around and walked to them.

"You're a long way from home," Yoren replied, calmly.

"I asked you a question," the guard closer to him said, angrily.

"Aye, you did. You asked without manners and I chose not to answer," Yoren replied easily.

The guard glared at Yoren, and pulled a rolled piece of paper with a royal seal on it.

"I have a royal warrant for one of these gutter rats you're transporting," the guard told Yoren, giving him the paper.

Gendry frowned and looked at Ellion who had his jaw set, his hand going to the hilt of his sword. On the other side of the pile of wood, Vyolet pressed Arya lower while grabbing her sword tightly.

Yoren inspected the document and then gave it back.

"Well, the thing is these gutter rats belong to the Night's Watch now," Yoren replied just as calm as if he were discussing the pleasant weather. "That puts them beyond the reach of kings and queens."

"Does it?"

The guard reached for his sword, but Yoren was faster, placing a sharp dagger pointing at the man's crotch. The guard let go of his sword immediately and sat very still.

"It's a funny thing, people worry so much about their throats that they forget about what's down low," Yoren commented, sarcastically, resting his dagger close to the man's leg. "Now, I sharpened this blade before breakfast. I could shave a spider's arse if I wanted to. Or I could nick this artery in your leg. And once it's nicked, there's no one around here who knows how to un-nick it."

Neither of the two men moved, just glared at Yoren, but Barren and the rest of the men approached Yoren, ready to help him.

"We'll just keep that," Yoren added, taking the guard's sword and throwing it to the ground. Croll picked it up just as the rest of the man drew swords or spears. "Good steel is always needed on the Wall."

"Seems you have a choice," Yoren continued. "You can die here at this crossroads a long way from home, or you can go back to your city and tell your masters you didn't find what you were looking for."

Yoren put down his dagger and just then the guard spoke again, to the rest of the men this time:

"We're looking for a boy named Gendry. He carries a bull's head helmet. Anyone turning him over will earn the King's reward."

Ellion frowned, taken aback and turned to look at Gendry who had just gone still, looking away.

The guard looked down at Yoren.

"We'll be back with more men and I'll be taking your head home along with that bastard boy," he said angrily before turning his horse around and both guards rode away.

Vyolet and Arya then came out behind the pile of wood, looking at Gendry who looked just as worried and confused.

* * *

Gendry was filling buckets of water on a nearby creek. Just alongside him were Vyolet, Arya, Hot Pie, and Lommy washing pots and pans.

"If they come back, I say we yield," Lommy told Hot Pie, unaware that Arya and Vyolet were hearing everything. "Gendry's the one they want. Don't want to get caught in the middle of a battle."

"I ain't afraid of no battles," Hot Pie assured him.

"If you got within a mile of a battle, you'd fill your pants," Arya replied sarcastically while rising a pan and putting it on the clean pile.

"I've seen lots of battles," Hot Pie told her, indignantly. "I saw..."

"Liar," Arya said, interrupting him.

"I saw a man kill another man just outside a tavern in Flea Bottom," Hot Pie continued, with a bragging smile. "Stabbed him right in the neck."

"Two men fighting isn't a battle," Lommy told Hot Pie.

"They had armor on," Hot Pie told him matter-of-factly.

Vyolet could barely hold back her laughter, but a smile escaped.

"So?"Arya asked Hot Pie.

"So, if they've got armor on, it's a battle," Hot Pie replied.

"No, it isn't," Lommy said.

"What does a dyer's apprentice know about battles anyway?" Hot Pie said, indignantly.

Vyolet looked up, seeing Gendry approaching.

"Gendry's an armorer's apprentice," Vyolet told the kids with an amused smile. "Hot Pie, tell Gendry what makes a fight into a battle."

Hot Pie, taken aback by Vyolet talking to him and then Gendry staring.

"It's hum when they've got armor on," the boy said unsurely.

Gendry met Vyolet's amused expression but kept his serious.

"Who told you that?" Gendry asked Hot Pie.

"A knight."

"How'd you know he was a knight?"

"Well, it was 'cause he'd got armor on," Hot Pie replied.

"You don't have to be a knight to have armor," Gendry replied amused. "Any idiot can buy armor."

"How do you know?" Hot Pie said, indignant that nobody believed his logic.

"Cause I sold armor," Gendry replied matter-of-factly.

Vyolet couldn't help laughing this time, and embarrassed both Lommy and Hot Pie stood up and left.

"Do you enjoy torturing those boys?" Gendry asked her teasingly.

"It's always good to have a laugh early in the morning," Vyolet replied with a smile and a shrug, before taking a pile of clean pots and walking away, flashing Gendry a last smile.

The boy followed the girl with a stupid grin and Arya rolled her eyes, shaking her head. She stood up and walked to him as he finished filling a bucket of water, ready to follow Vyolet.

"What do the gold cloaks want with you?"Arya asked him.

"No idea," he replied, standing up.

"You're a liar," Arya said, accusingly.

"You know, you shouldn't insult people that are bigger than you," Gendry replied amusingly, turning to her but not stopping, so Arya followed him.

"Then I wouldn't get to insult anyone," Arya replied matter-of-factly.

"I don't care what any of them want," Gendry told Arya, earnestly. "No good's ever come of their questions."

"No good's ever come?"Arya asked as Gendry stopped and pored the water on a pig pot where they carried the water supply.

"Who asked questions before?" Arya insisted when Gendry didn't reply.

"How can someone so small be such a huge pain in my arse?"Gendry teased her, with an exasperated smile.

"Who asked questions?" Arya kept going.

"The Hand of the King," Gendry finally replied, knowing Arya was not going to stop. "Hands of the King. Lord Arryn came first a few weeks before he died, and then Lord Stark came a few weeks before he died."

Arya's smile was wiped clean.

"Lord Stark?"

"See? Asking me questions is bad luck," Gendry said, passing her a bucket and returning to the creek. "You'll probably be dead soon."

"What did they ask about?" Arya said.

"My mum," Gendry said, shrugging.

"Who's your mum?"

Gendry shrugged, filling a bucket with water.

"Just my mum worked in a tavern, died when I was little."

"And who was your father?"

"Could've been one of those gold-hatted bastards, for all I know," Gendry replied, placing the bucket down on the ground and taking the one Arya was holding.

"What about you anyway? You thought they were after you. Why? Did you kill someone or is it just because you're a girl?"Gendry said, filling the other bucket with water.

Arya's heart sank to her knees and she got paler.

"I'm not a girl," she snapped.

"Yes, you are," Gendry said, laughing, taking both buckets and walking away. Arya followed. "Do you think I'm as stupid as the rest of them?"

"Stupider," Arya replied angrily. "The Night's Watch doesn't take girls, everyone knows that."

"Yeah, that's true, but you're still a girl," Gendry replied reaching the big pot and placing one bucket poured the other to the pot.

"I am not!" Arya insisted.

"Yeah?" Gendry stood straightened, looking down at her. "Well, pull your cock out and take a piss, then."

"I don't need to take a piss," Arya replied quickly, taken aback and knew Gendry didn't believe her. Arya didn't want to keep Gendry asking questions and discover Vyolet too.

"Lommy and Hot Pie can't know," Arya told Gendry almost in a whisper. "No one can know."

"Well, they won't," Gendry assured her, pouring the rest of the bucket in the pot. "Not from me."

"My name's not Arry. It's Arya, of House Stark. Yoren is taking me home to Winterfell."

At that Gendry stopped, and turned to her as taken aback as Arya just a moment ago.

"He was your father," Gendry said, still shocked. "The Hand, the traitor."

"He was never a traitor," Arya replied, ferociously. "Joffrey is a liar."

"So you're a highborn, then," Gendry said. "You're a lady."

"No," Arya replied quickly. "I mean, yes. My mother was a lady and my sister..."

"Yeah, but you were a lord's daughter," Gendry continued, the truth sinking in. "And you lived in a castle andthat's why Lady Lyna is always taking care of you..."

A horror look came to Gendry's face.

"Look, all that about cocks, I should never have said... And I've been pissing in front of you and everything. I should be calling you _mi lady_."

"Do not call me _my lady,"_ Arya told him angrily.

Gendry bowed his head, teasingly.

"As my lady commands," he replied and Arya pushed him.

"Well, that was unladylike."

Arya pushed him harder, pushing him to the ground before stomping away angrily.

"Wait, please don't tell Lady Lyna about what I've said," Gendry asked Arya, but her answer was her middle finger.

* * *

Vyolet carried the pots to the cart where Ellion was placing barrels of apples and pears.

"Here, let me help you," he said, and before Vyolet could say anything, the boy took the pots from her and placed them with the others.

"Thank you," Vyolet replied, smiling.

Ellion smiled back, jumping down the cart, next to her.

"So, that was pretty scary the other day," Ellion said, dusting his hands off.

Vyolet nodded, as they started walking away.

"Yes, I even had a bad dream about it," Vyolet replied, holding back a yawn.

Ellion turned to her, frowning.

"Are you tired?" He asked her, gently. "Why don't you sleep a little? I'll see no one bothers you."

"You don't have to do that," Vyolet told him, shaking her head.

"Do what?"

"Serve me, Ellion," she said, looking at him in the eye. "You're not my servant anymore."

"I know that," Ellion replied. "I thought you said we were friends."

"We are friends."

Ellion shrugged.

"Well friends take care of each other," he told her. "Just like when you go with Arya to the woods to make sure she'll be okay. The same way, I could protect you while you sleep."

Vyolet looked down, a little smile showing and she nodded.

They walked to a are close enough to the camp but private enough to avoid wandering people. Vyolet sat on the ground with her back to a thick tree and Ellion sat next to her.

"What the dream was about?" He asked her, as Vyolet raised her knees and hugged them.

"Uh, just bad," she replied without looking at him. "I don't remember it."

"Come on, you can lie better than that," Ellion told her with a teasing smile.

Vyolet gave him a look before sighing.

"The gold cloaks attacked the camp," Vyolet told him, hugging her knees tighter. "They killed you and Gendry and took me and Arya away, to Joffrey and Cersei."

"You worry about Gendry too, huh?" Ellion replied, his voice sour and when she looked at him he had his jaw set and his lips stretched on a tight line.

"I do. He's my friend," Vyolet replied, nodding.

"Is he?"

Vyolet raised an eyebrow, and smiled lightly.

"Are you jealous?"

Ellion buffed and turned to her. He was annoyed alright.

"Jealous of what?"

"Of Gendry," Vyolet shrugged. "Of my friendship with him."

"You're a lady. I'm a servant," Ellion replied upset. "You can do whatever you desire."

Vyolet's smile disappeared.

"I'm Vyolet and you are Ellion," Vyolet replied firmly. "That's all I care about. And I care about Gendry just as I care about Arya. And I care about you."

Vyolet took his hand and Ellion frowned lightly.

"You do?"

Vyolet smiled, nodding.

"Of course I do, you oaf," she said teasingly. "What can I say to convince you?"

But before she could even finish the sentence, Ellion leaned forward quickly, cupping her face with a hand and kissed her.

It was a brief kiss, but warmed them and sent jolts down their spines.

Ellion moved back, staring at Vyolet into her eyes, his hand still holding her cheek.

Slowly, the girl smiled and then she leaned, kissing him back. This kiss lasted a bit longer, her hand finding his curls and tangling on them, while his other hand grabbed her waist and pulled her closer.

When they moved back, Ellion rested his forehead against hers, breathing into her.

"I am convinced," he said with a smile.

Vyolet laughed.

"Good. Now, if you excuse me..."

The girl moved away and rested her head on his shoulder. His arm moved to wrap around her and pulled her close to him.

"Sleep well, my lady," Ellion told her in a whisper, thanking the gods or whoever was listening for his luck. He still wasn't sure he was dreaming. After all those years of serving her without her noticing him, and loving her from afar. He was here today.

Ellion held Vyolet tighter and kissed her forehead, reminding him that she was real.


	7. Chapter 7

**Guys, thank you so much for your support, for reading this story and your lovely reviews. You're the best.**

* * *

Chapter 7

Lies and Indecision

...

Meralith Lannister reread the letter before violently ripped it apart and threw it to the fire. How dared Cersei threaten her and Vyolet? She was just a child! Her child! If only she was in King's Landing! Cersei would dare do this demands! Not to her! But she was so far from there and if that woman told someone about Vyolet...! Meralith tried to convince herself they would keep Vyolet safe. Tywin Lannister was many things but not a fool. He would see the advantage of having a Targaryen under his control. He wouldn't let anything happen to her, but he didn't know and he was away. And Cersei was a vindictive woman. If Vyolet did something to provoke her, Meralith had no doubt Cersei would let Targaryen enemies have her and rip her to pieces. So she could do nothing. Nothing but wait and pray to the gods to give her daughter the strength she needed.

* * *

Vyolet couldn't help to smile. In fact, she was smiling way too much taking into account her situation. She didn't mind though, even if men stared a bit more or Arya teased her with gargling sounds and exaggerated sighs. But they couldn't ruin her mood. That distinction went to Yoren.

"Why are you so fucking happy?" The man said, crossing his arms over her chest and glaring at her like always.

"Now my happiness annoys you?" Vyolet shot back, raising an eyebrow. "And why you have to swear all the time?"

"Not all folks can be fancy little brats like you," Yoren mocked her.

Vyolet's smile finally disappeared as if it had never been there and she got angry. Really angry.

"When have I in this whole damn trip acted like a brat? When have I ever complained to you? Never! So why don't you take your own advice and leave me the hell alone!"

Yoren looked at her surprised as well as the people nearby. Vyolet had never raise her voice or curse for that matter. Then Yoren threw his head back, bursting out laughing.

Vyolet saw red. Just as Yoren turned to walk away, still laughing. The girl grabbed the hilt of her sword, ready to strike him down.

"No, no. You shouldn't kill, Yoren," Ellion said, walking to her and placing a hand on hers to stop her.

Vyolet turned to him still angry.

"Seriously that man...!" She let out frustrated, glaring at the retreating form of Yoren. When he disappeared among the trees, Vyolet sighed and let go of the sword.

"Sorry," the girl said.

"It's fine to let it out," Ellion told her, letting go of her hand and stepping back. "Don't want you to poison him or something."

Vyolet buffed and rolled her eyes.

"As if I would poison him. I would crack his head open!" Vyolet said, resentfully.

Ellion couldn't help laughing.

"You're starting to sound like Arya," he told Vyolet.

The girl shrugged, and crossed her arms, pouting.

"Yeah, well sometimes pricks don't let you act like a lady."

Vyolet glared at Ellion when he started laughing again.

"Shut up," she said pushing him.

"Alright, alright," Ellion replied raising his hands, still smiling at Vyolet amused.

The girl rolled her eyes and tried to walk away, but Ellion grabbed her hand and pulled her to the trees. Until they reached a small creek and they were alone.

"What is it?" Vyolet asked him a bit concerned.

"Ellion, what...?"

But the girl was interrupted by Ellion, cupping her face with both hands and kissing her deeply.

Vyolet pushed him away frowning and the boy just laughed.

"This is why you take me away from camp?"

"It was a most urgent matter, my lady," he replied teasingly, his hands going to her waist pulling her to him.

Vyolet snorted, but couldn't help smiling. Her hands wrapped themselves around his neck, pushing him against a tree.

"That is not how a lady should behave," the boy teased her, faking a tone of alarm.

Vyolet just laughed and rolled her eyes.

"Shut up. I didn't give you permission to talk, did I?" She said and kissed him before he could come up with something stupid to say.

* * *

Meralith was taking the midday meal with her cousins and aunts when a message arrived. There was an unknown lady wanting to talk to her and it was urgent. She excused herself from the table and went to meet the stranger. She didn't expect anyone. Certainly this couldn't be good. Maybe another Cersei's personal message.

Waiting for Meralith in her room was an old woman in a rich purple cloak and a golden tiara. It took her a moment to realize they were Vyolet's things and the woman was Esthis, her daughter's handmaid.

* * *

Vyolet didn't notice when they changed their positions from standing to sitting but she didn't complain. She did notice however when Ellion's hand tried to sneak under her dress.

Her hand was quicker stopping him and pulling away from him.

"No, we're not going there," Vyolet told him with a smile.

Ellion sighed but took his hand away from her leg, raising them in the air.

"Apologies, my lady. I got carried away," he teased her, placing his hands on her waist and squeezing it lightly, feeling the hard lines of her corset. "That may come later."

Vyolet raised her eyebrows. He was way over his head if he thought that she would be sleeping with him. She was raised a lady and as a lady, she would give her virtue only to her husband.

"Later?" She said teasingly, getting off the boy's lap. "I'm afraid the later you're talking about is going to be a long wait."

"Well, maybe not that long," Ellion said, getting a bit flustered. Vyolet frowned lightly, confused at his reaction. Ellion was suddenly nervous but smiled excitedly. Not what she was expecting.

"Well, I... I wanted to do it differently..."

"Do what?"

Ellion took a deep breath and knelt in front of the girl, taking her hands in his.

"Vyolet, I- I love you. I think you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, and the smartest. I've loved you since we were at Casterly Rock and you saved me from Joffrey..."

Vyolet's heart dropped suddenly understanding where Ellion's mind was going.

"Ellion, I... What are you...?"

"Marry me."

There was a pause. A rather award pause.

Vyolet looked at him as he had lost his mind.

"Ellion."

"I know, I know I'm just a servant boy and have nothing to offer you..." The boy said, misunderstanding her reaction.

"That's not... That doesn't matter."

Ellion grinned at her, kissing her hands lovingly.

"I knew it wouldn't matter with you."

"Ellion, I'm not ready to marry," Vyolet said, her voice getting a bit higher. She felt something like panic rising on her chest.

Ellion didn't stop smiling.

"Well we won't get married here in the middle of the road," Ellion replied, teasingly. "Can't you imagine? Croll or one of those oafs marrying us..."

The boy laughed but when he looked up at Vyolet's face he stopped. His smile faded too.

"You didn't mean that, did you?" Ellion said, his voice breaking. "You don't want to marry me."

Vyolet looked down, feeling so much worse with every passing moment.

"No," she said softly. "But Ellion..."

Ellion stood up abruptly, moving her away softly but firmly.

"Why not?" He asked her, turning around. His voice hurt and desperate.

"What do you mean why not?" Vyolet replied, exasperated. "I just fled King's Landing under Cersei's nose. For all I know there are guards looking for me. I can't go back and I can't go home. I don't know anything about my mother and my only option is to go North and hope the Starks won't throw me in a dungeon as soon as I step a foot on their camp. Do you want me to add marriage to that?"

Ellion frowned, looking indignant.

"I know it's been hard. I was there the whole time!"

"I know, and I could never repay you..."

"I don't want you to repay me," Ellion interrupted her. "It's this what that is? A repayment?" He asked her gesturing him and then her.

"You know it's not," Vyolet said indignantly, but the boy shook his head.

"So do you love me? Or this have been just a game?"

"Ellion..."

"No, it's that simple. Do you love me?"

Vyolet stared into his angry hurt eyes. She couldn't lie. Not to him, and not after what he had done for her. It wouldn't be fair on the long run.

"We barely know each other."

Ellion buffed, looking away.

"You just don't want to marry me because I'm poor, just admit it," he told her now angry as well as sad. "Why a Lannister lady would want to lower herself...?"

"That has nothing to do with it!" Vyolet replied, angry now as well. She sprung to her feet. "I like you, but no, I don't love you. I barely know you and you don't know nothing about me! You think that's enough for a marriage? Any marriage?"

"I'm sorry to bother you, my lady," Ellion said coldly, making a bow to her.

"Ellion, please."

But he didn't want to listen anymore. He turned around and left her. Vyolet cursed and kicked a tree before following him. She heard some noises over some trees near the creek, so she turned and walked to those.

"Ellion, wait listen I..."

But it wasn't Ellion. It was Arya, sitting on top of a fallen tree, crying. When she heard Vyolet, Arya froze, and rushed to wipe her tears off but Vyolet saw. Vyolet frowned, immediately concerned for the girl and walked quickly to her.

"Arya? Are you alright?" Vyolet asked the little girl, sitting next to her.

Arya nodded, looking away.

"I'm fine. It's nothing," she said firmly, raising her chin, trying to look composed.

"You are crying." It wasn't a question.

"I'm not," Arya snapped, stubbornly. "Only stupid girls cry."

Vyolet saw Arya's red rimmed eyes and felt sorry but the girl. She was so young to be suffering like she had.

"No. Everyone cries. Girls, boys. Women and men. Even Yoren had cried at some point," she added trying to pull a smile off Arya but it didn't work.

"There's no shame in that."

Arya looked down at her hand, closed tightly in fists.

"Crying makes you weak."

Vyolet reached for her hands and opened her tight closed fists.

"No, shame makes you weak. Thinking mourning it's bad makes you weak. You miss your father, don't you?" Arya's response was to purse her lips. "Your mother, your home. I bet you miss even Sansa."

Arya nodded.

Vyolet smiled sadly and wrapped the little girl in a tight embrace. Life had been the cruelest to her.

"That's completely normal, sweetheart. I miss my family too," Vyolet told her.

"You still have a father," Arya replied, her voice breaking with not very well contained tears.

"I don't."

Arya moved back from her embrace and looked at Vyolet surprised. It was then when the little girl realize she didn't know much about Vyolet. She knew she was a Lannister and that she was running from the queen. That was it.

"My father is now with the gods," Vyolet told Arya, noticing her surprise. Vyolet smiled softly. "Feasting in the Golden Hall, like your father. But most importantly he's always with me, just as Lord Stark is always with you."

"Do you really think so?" Arya asked, her voice soft and timid, so unlike her. But she was a child. The toughest child Vyolet knew, but a child.

Vyolet nodded, firmly.

"There's no shame in crying Arya specially because you miss your father."

"Yoren told me not to."

Vyolet buffed being even more annoyed to the man.

"I'm sure he only meant crying in front of the others, and he may be right," Vyolet reluctantly admitted.

"You said crying didn't make you weak," Arya accused her.

"It doesn't," Vyolet told her, firmly. "But if you cry in front of the others, they may use your pain as a weapon. This world is cruel and would not hold back if you show weakness. So don't show them but don't stop. Cry, miss your father, scream if you must, but keep going. Always keep going."

There was a long pause where Arya stared at the water running down the creek, her head resting on her shoulder.

"Thank you, Vyolet."

Vyolet ran a hand through Arya's messy dirty locks.

"You're welcome sweetie."

"How was your father?"

Vyolet made a pause, thinking. She remembered Rendal Lannister. A kind husband, a loving man, but a Lannister. He had been ambitious and cunning. His ego could get the best of himself and his delusions of grandeur. Then Vyolet thought of her other father. Her real father. The father she had never known and didn't know she was his child until very recently. Aerys, the mad king. Next to him, Rendal Lannister was Baelor the Blessed. Rendal had adored Vyolet, but the girl couldn't help thinking how he had been with her if he had known she wasn't his child. Would he be the loving father she knew? Or would he had turned her away? Would he have given her to the monsters that had slaughtered the Targaryens?

"He was a kind man but he was a Lannister. He had many flaws," Vyolet told Arya. "I was seven when he died, you know. It was an accident. A riding accident. Joffrey find the story hilarious. He thought my father was a fool, that's why the horse threw him off."

"Joffrey's a cunt."

Despite her dark thoughts, Vyolet couldn't help laughing. She raised an eyebrow to Arya.

"Where did you learn that word?"

Arya just shrugged, smiling. Vyolet smiled back and looked down at the creek. Joffrey. She felt incredibly guilty for leaving Sansa alone with him, but Vyolet was glad she had run when she could.

"But yes, you're right. Joffrey is a cunt."

* * *

Meralith covered her mouth, thanking the gods.

"Vyolet escaped. She escaped..."

Esthis nodded, twisting her hands.

"I tried to follow the group, my lady. But someone was following me... And they followed me all the way here."

Meralith's mouth turned down in anger.

"Queen's spies no doubt," the lady spat, standing up. "Do not fret, Esthis. I will protect you. This is my home and now that I now Vyolet is not with Cersei she won't bully me further."

Meralith looked out of the window as she were hoping to catch a glimpse of a spy or her missing daughter.

"We'll find her and bring her home."

* * *

They didn't often find places to spend the night, but when they do it was usually a barn, or a stable. This time they found a large inn with a bathhouse and Vyolet couldn't rejoice more.

She was the first to pay for a hot bath and Yoren, feeling unusually generous let the men had a bath as well. After a relaxing half hour, Vyolet left the bathhouse in a new dress, feeling like she hadn't in weeks. She almost had forgotten her fight with Ellion. Almost.

After her bath Vyolet urged Arya for one too. They had an argument about it, but at the end Arya won when Yoren got on her side, arguing she may looked like a girl once clean and that no boy her age would have wanted to take a bath.

"She'll clean up once we reach the North," Yoren grumbled, dismissing Vyolet once and for all.

But at least Arya let Vyolet washed her face and ears with a rag, and washed her hands before sitting at an inn's table to eat with Gendry, Hot Pie, Lommy and Vyolet.

"Should we wait for Ellion?" Arya asked Vyolet, but the girl shook her head. She hadn't seen the boy since she had refused his proposal two days ago. He had been avoiding her. Every time she approached he walked away and he always make sure to not be alone.

"I'm sure he'll eat when he feels hungry."

Arya frowned and opened her mouth to keep asking but Gendry elbowed her, and shook his head to her. If Vyolet's face was an indication to him, she just wanted them to leave her alone.

As they ate, Hot Pie and Lommy started talking about battles just to be shut down by Gendry and Arya. Vyolet didn't listen much, or she would be rather amused, but her mind was just troubled. She didn't want to marry Ellion because of the situation she was in, but would she had wanted to marry him on another circumstances? Vyolet bit her lip and shook her head. Her eyes wandered to the window of the inn and she saw the silhouette of the caged cart outside the inn. Yoren had been generous to all expect the men in there. Vyolet understood about the two big brutes, but Jaqen was polite. She wouldn't let him out, she suspected he was more dangerous than the two big ones combined, but surely they could at least feed him or something.

When they finished eating, Vyolet sent Arya up to a room she had paid up. Vyolet suspected it was the only bed the girls would seen before reaching the North so she hadn't think twice about paying extra.

Then, Vyolet gathered a skin-bag full of water and went outside. If the two brutes behaved she would give them water too.

As soon as he saw her, Jaqen smirked leaning his head to her.

"The lovely girl looks even lovelier with her cheeks pink again," Jaqen told her, his voice as silk.

Vyolet couldn't help blushing, but she doubted he could notice it without light. She smiled.

"Thank you. I feel better too," she replied in a good humor. "I brought you water."

"Thank you, lovely girl," Jaqen told her, bowing his head and extending his cup to her.

"Water? Fuck that shit!" The fat man with pointy teeth in the cage next to Jaqen shouted, startling Vyolet. The girl glared at him.

"Fine. Then you won't have any water," she said, coldly.

"You bloody whore...!"

Jaqen turned to him. Vyolet couldn't see the look he gave the man, but the fat man stopped and stepped away as if he were a mouse and Jaqen a boot. Vyolet didn't understand how that was possible. How such big man could be easily be silenced by Jaqen? It scared her, if she was honest. It scared her what he was capable of if he could subdue that man so easily. If even that mountain of man was scared of the Lorathi.

Once the fat man was on the other side of the cart, Jaqen turned to Vyolet and smiled to reassure her, probably noticing her unsettled expression.

Vyolet filled his cup clumsily. Jaqen took the water in three big gulps. He extended the cup again and Vyolet filled it.

"Lovely girl, can a man ask for a favor?" Jaqen asked her, taking a gulp of water.

"Depending on the favor," Vyolet said.

Jaqen smirked.

"A man would like to take a bath as well."

Vyolet raised her eyebrows.

"Do you want me to bring you a bucket?" She asked him, teasingly.

"No, clever girl," Jaqen replied giving her a look. "Perhaps a girl could talk to Yoren and ask for a man to leave this cage."

Vyolet couldn't help buffing.

"I'm afraid I can't do that," she said. "First of all, Yoren doesn't like me. He's just going to laugh at me if I ask. The best I can do is bring you a bucket of hot water and a rag."

Jaqen smiled taking a sip of water. Then shrugged.

"It's better than nothing a man supposes," he said sarcastically. "And some dinner."

Vyolet smiled, but squinted, placing a hand on her hip.

"Hot water. Dinner. I'm not a tavern wench, you know?" Vyolet joked, smiling at Jaqen's smirk, but then someone caught her eye.

Ellion was walking to them. He gave her a look before entering the inn, quickly. Vyolet's smile disappeared.

"A girl has fought with the boy," Jaqen said. Vyolet turned to him startled. She had forgotten about him for a second. The girl turned, frowning, expecting to see a smirk, but Jaqen was looking at her with a sympathetic look.

"Yes, we had a... disagreement," Vyolet replied, vaguely. She didn't want to talk about it, specially with someone she didn't know.

Jaqen gave her a look, taking a sip of water.

"A man thinks a girl loves the boy," he said.

Vyolet buffed and shook her head.

"Don't be stupid. There's no time for that."

"Time has nothing to do with feelings, lovely girl," Jaqen told her, raising an eyebrow. "Time just passes by. A man thinks a girl has lied so much and for so long, she's starting to lie to herself."

Vyolet looked away, frowning. She didn't want to think about her fight with Ellion, and Jaqen's words were painfully true.

"I'll bring you the water," she said without looking at him and walked away.

Vyolet went to the bathhouse, so lost in thought she didn't hear Yoren at first.

"Hey, lass! Lass! You are deaf or what?"

"What do you want?" Vyolet asked him, irritated. She was in the mood to bear his insults.

"Since when are you so bloody nice to those three?" Yoren asked her, nodding his head at the cage.

"I'm not nice to them, just the Lorathi," Vyolet replied, matter-of-factly, bracing herself for whatever Yoren wanted to scolded her for now.

"The Lorathi?" Yoren spat, placing his hands on his hips. "That bloody man is the most dangerous shite I could find on them fucking dungeons."

Vyolet shrugged.

"He's polite."

Yoren buffed, but his lips turned up.

"Well I guess when you grew on a family of criminals, those like him seem polite to you."

Vyolet glared at him.

"Screw you."

Yoren stared at the girl for a second before bursting out laughing, enraging the girl.

"Not very ladylike, ain't it? I didn't know you knew how to curse," Yoren teased her.

"Do you want something Yoren or did you just came by to insult me?" Vyolet said enraged. "I guess you haven't done it today and a day can get by without you telling me how awful do you think I am!"

Yoren made a grimace and shrugged.

"I don't think you're awful, lass."

"Really? Could've fool me," Vyolet replied, angrily.

Yoren shrugged again.

"Look, no offense but you're a Lannister. I don't have the warmest feelings towards your family."

"You and the rest of the world."

"Yes, well, I know you ain't like that," Yoren replied, scratching his beard. "I've seen how you care for the child. And I know you paid those arses to leave you alone, not to just fetch you water."

Vyolet deepened her frown, this time slightly confused.

"Then why you always give me a hard time?"

"I ain't your fucking mother, I don't have to cuddle you," Yoren spat.

Vyolet rolled her eyes, crossing her arms.

"Nice," she said, before turning away.

"Wait."

Vyolet stopped, sighting exasperated.

"Yes? Is there something else?"

Yoren looked at her a moment before saying: "the Wall is always welcoming men."

Vyolet frowned, confused.

"Is that an invitation? Because I don't know if you haven't noticed, but I am no man."

Yoren smirked, amused.

"Funny. But I wasn't talking about you. I was talking about the boy you brought along."

"Ellion?" Vyolet asked.

"Aye. There's not a lot of places for a disloyal servant to go. But he would be useful on the Wall," Yoren told her.

"You should tell this to Ellion, not to me," Vyolet replied.

"I did," Yoren said. "But he said he needs to protect you. Fucking idiot. I know many green boys like him. Thinking they can marry the pretty lady living in the castle."

Vyolet looked away, feeling the knot in her throat growing.

"Ellion's not an idiot," she replied upset.

"No? Then you're going with him? You'll marry him."

"I..."

Yoren snorted, attracting Vyolet's glare.

"When you reach Casterly Rock, or the North or wherever the fuck you're going, he's not going to be more useful to you than that shite-smelling cloak you're wearing, ain't he?," Yoren told her. "And if you care for him, you should convince him to go to the Wall."

With that, Yoren left her alone.

* * *

The next day, despite waking on a soft bed, Vyolet felt her soul heavier than usual. She tried to make Arya take a bath in vain, before going downstairs to break fast and leave.

The day was sunnier than other days, but the sunlight didn't warm, just burnt and hurt the eyes. They kept going until they reach a river and recharge their water supply.

Vyolet and Arya were filling up a barrel by carrying buckets of water to it when Ellion approached. Arya noticed the look on his eyes and hurry to leave them alone.

Vyolet noticed Arya scurrying away and looked up. Her eyes caught Ellion's and her jaw set tight. The girl rose quickly, spilling a bit of the water in the process.

"Wait, Vyolet, please."

The girl stopped in her tracks and turned to him slowly. Her eyes glared at him and her jaw was set tightly.

"I see you want to talk now," Vyolet said coldly.

"I want to apologize," Ellion replied softly. "I know I was out of place."

Vyolet sighed, her face losing the hardness.

"Ellion..."

"I know it's... I know you don't feel the same way about me and I know it's not the time. I'm sorry."

Vyolet looked up to him and held his stare. She could tell he felt ashamed, so she nodded her head.

Ellion gave her a tentative smile and Vyolet smiled back, reassuringly. The girl knelt next to the river again, to replace the water she had spilled and Ellion knelt next to her, helping her.

"Yoren wants you to take the black," Vyolet said, after a few minutes working in silence. The girl glanced at him to see his reaction, but his face was unusually blank as he turned to see her.

"Do you want me to?"

"I... It's your decision, not mine," Vyolet replied, standing up.

"Right," Ellion said, disappointed, helping her. Then he turned around to leave.

"But I will be sad to see you leave," Vyolet called him. Ellion stopped in his tracks and turned his head to her.

Vyolet smiled sadly.

"I would miss you, terribly."

Ellion smiled back. Then, stepping to her, he grabbed her free hand and kissed her softly, before walking away.

* * *

Vyolet, Arya, Ellion and the men bound to the Wall stopped at a large farm. It was deserted but they found an abandoned tower with few drafts to spend the night. They left the carts and the horses out with a few large torches, illuminating the outside of the tower. Croll, Ellion and Trevyr volunteer to guard the tower as the others slept.

Barren had saved her the dusty smelly almost flat mattress near the fire.

"I know it's shite, Lady Lyna, but at least you won't be full of bruises," the big man told her with an apologetic smile. Vyolet thanked him with a chuckled and gave him ten coins. The man's eyes almost popped out.

The tower quickly fell silent as the men slept, some snoring loudly. But neither Vyolet or Arya could because every time she closed her eyes, she could see the goldcloaks dragging away her father's beheaded corpse. She could hear the crowd cheering and Joffrey smiling down at her... Vyolet on the other hand was contemplating what to do about Ellion. If he go North to the Wall it was a possibility she would never see him again. But he would be better off than just following her around, hoping he would not get killed. Vyolet and Arya had a protection. If everything else failed, their last names would save them. They would be prisoners, but they would be alive, but Ellion, Ellion would be killed one way or another...

Vyolet stood up and in a whisper told Arya that she would be back in a moment.

The girl quickly and silently walked to the towers door, grabbing her sword, and scurried through it as silently as possible. She walked to the torches but a big figure blocked her way.

"Lady Lyna, you should be asleep," Croll told her as gently as he could. "It's going to be fucking tough tomorrow."

"I know Croll. I was just looking for Ellion," the girl replied. "I wanted to talk to him."

Croll gave the girl a knowing smile.

"Talk at this hour in the night?"

"Talk," Vyolet repeated, firmly. "I'm a damsel, Croll and I intend to remain that way."

"I'm sorry, Lady Lyna. I didn't want to imply another thing."

Vyolet nodded a bit exasperated.

"It's alright. Have you seen him?"

Croll nodded and pointed to a couple of bushes near the tower and the road behind it.

"I send him to sleep but he went over there."

"Thank you, Croll."

The girl replied smiling, but he stopped her before she could walked away.

"Let me go with you, Lady Lyna. You shouldn't be walking around in the dark. It could be dangerous."

"Thank you, Croll, but don't worry. I have this with me and it'll be quick," Vyolet said, patting her sword. She gave him a smile and then left quickly. She was nervous enough about what to say to him without Croll hanging around.

Vyolet found him sitting on a fallen tree, his sword on his legs, his face staring at the starry sky.

"Ellion," Vyolet called him.

The boy turned a bit startled, but smiled when he saw her.

"My lady."

Vyolet smiled and went around the tree to sat next to him.

"What are you doing?"

"I wanted to breath in as much fresh air as I could before going in," he told her, scrunching up his nose.

Vyolet laughed.

"Yes, I guess the smell of the men is pretty strong. Can't imagine my own."

"Yours' good."

Vyolet looked away and couldn't help blushing or smiling.

They sat in silence, feeling the chilly air around them. As they go, the air turned colder. The summer was over and now the winter was slowly creeping on them.

"You know I can't marry you," Vyolet told him softly, her eyes fixed on a big star, so she didn't saw his face.

"I know," Ellion replied with a mix of disappointment and acceptance.

Vyolet looked down at him.

"It will be dangerous. If we're to be captured, I have nothing to bargain with, except my hand."

Ellion nodded, looking down at his hands.

"I know."

"But that doesn't mean I don't have... feelings for you," Vyolet admitted, her voice getting lower. Ellion turned to her slowly. "You are brave, and sweet, and you have been with me the whole way through."

Vyolet took a deep breath and grabbed his hand in hers. His hand was warm while hers felt like a piece of ice.

"If you go North to the Wall, you'll have a home," Vyolet told him. "You won't be a servant to anyone anymore. And I'm pretty sure you'll forget about me in a month or so."

Ellion shook his head, about to interrupt her but Vyolet quickly continued.

"But if you go with me, I can't assure you anything. I can't assure you a place to stay. I can't marry you."

Ellion's eyes pierced hers.

"But I can love you. Someday."

The boy smiled at her lovingly and raised a hand to cup her cheek.

"As much as I would look great in black, I think I prefer someday."

Vyolet smiled back and didn't stop him as he kissed her softly. Her hands found their way around his neck but before they could deepened the kiss a loud horn cut the silence violently.

* * *

Arya was sitting with her back to a wooden beam, sharpening her sword. When Vyolet left the tower she left the pretense to try to sleep and walk to the other side of the room. She was the only one awake when Yoren entered the tower, cursing under his breath.

He walked to a wall and sat on the floor.

"You should be sleeping," Yoren told Arya pulling out his waterskin full of beer. "Tomorrow's a long march. Thirty miles, if it don't piss on us."

"I can't sleep," Arya replied.

Yoren extended his arm, offering her some beer, but Arya didn't take it.

"I don't like the taste," she said.

Yoren took the bag back, and couldn't stop but smiling.

"You don't drink it for the flavor, to be honest," he replied, placing the cork back on the bag. Yoren leaned back and closed his eyes but felt Arya's eyes on him.

"What?" He asked her.

"How do you sleep?"

"Same as most men, I think."

"But you've seen things, horrible things," Arya said.

"Aye. I've seen some pretty things, too, but not nearly so many," Yoren replied.

"How do you sleep when you... when you have those things in your head?"Arya sounded so frightened and so childlike it pulled something in Yoren.

"You didn't see that. I made damn sure," he replied a bit rougher than intended.

"I close my eyes and I see them up there. All of them standing there. Joffrey, the Queen and and my sister."

Yoren looked down.

"You know, we've got something in common, me and you. You know that? I must have been a couple of years older than you. I saw my brother stabbed through the heart right on our doorstep. He weren't much of a villain what skewered him. Willem, the lad's name was. He ran off before anyone could spit. And I just stood there, watching my brother die. Here's the funny part. I can't picture my brother's face anymore. But Willem, oh, he was a nice-looking boy," Yoren made a pause and looked at Arya. "He had good white teeth, blue eyes, one of those dimpled chins all the girls like. I would think about him when I was working, when I was drinking, when I was having a shit. It got to the point where I would say his name every night before I went to bed. Willem. Willem. Willem. A prayer almost."

Yoren cleared his throat.

"Well, one day, Willem came riding back into town. I buried an ax so deep into Willem's skull they had to bury him with it. Willem's horse got me to the Wall and I've been wearing black ever since. That'll help you sleep, eh?"

Yoren chuckled, unscrewing his waterskin and taking a big gulp.

A horn sounded then, causing a shiver to run down Arya's spine. Yoren's smile disappeared and he almost choked on his beer. He looked at Arya for a moment before putting the scorch on his waterskin and yelling:

"Ho! Get up, you lazy sons of whores! Arm yourselves!"

As the men woke up confused and startled Yoren made his way across the room.

Arya woke the men around her and then Gendry joined her.

Yoren grabbed his sword from the wall and noticing Vyolet's bow and quiver on the wall cursed her:

"Damn that fucking girl. Never is where she should be!" Yoren spat as he returned to Arya and Gendry. "You two keep out of sight, take the fucking princess and her lapdog with you."

"No, I'm not afraid," Arya quickly protested.

"I can fight," Gendry assured him.

"Keep out of sight," Yoren replied firmly. "If things go wrong, you run. Do you hear me?" He said, grabbing Arya by her shirt, staring at her eyes. "You run along North and don't look back."

Arya nodded and Yoren released her.

"Hey, there's men out there who want to fuck your corpses!" He called the men who grabbed their weapons and clumsily walked to the door. "Outside, now! Come on, move, move!"

* * *

As Vyolet and Ellion ran back to the camp, they saw chaos. The men were yelling: "Gold cloaks! Everyone out!" And the moonlight shone on the unmistakable Lannister armor of the men attacking them.

A man trying to run away, hit a torch knocking it over and it lit near the carts.

"Yoren!" Vyolet called him when she saw him walking out of the tower. The man cursed. They ran to him, but he stopped her, turning her around so with the chaos going on the soldiers won't see her.

"Take this and go get the kid!" He spat at Vyolet, thrusting a bow and a quiver at her. "If things go wrong get the fuck out of here!"

Vyolet opened her mouth to protest but Yoren gave her a look he had never gave her before. A trusting one.

The girl nodded and then ran back with Ellion who had seen Hot Pie, Gendry and Arya.

Then Yoren walked to the goldcloaks.

"Where's the bastard, crow?" The leader of the soldiers asked Yoren.

"Got more than a few bastards here," Yoren snapped back angrily. "Who's asking?"

"Ser Amory Lorch, sworn bannerman to Lord Tywin Lannister," the man replied. "These men from the capital requested our assistance. Drop your weapons in the name of the King."

From their place on their bushes, Vyolet, Arya, Ellion, Gendry and Hot Pie could see what was going on but couldn't hear.

"Now, which king would that be?" Yoren replied.

"This is your last chance," Ser Lorch told him. "In the name of King Joffrey, drop your weapons."

Yoren looked around at the man behind him and spat to the ground.

"I don't think I will," he replied.

"So be it," Ser Lorch said and raised a hand. The soldier next to him raised his crossbow and shot Yoren.

Both Arya and Vyolet tried to go but Gendry and Ellion were faster holding them back.

"I always hated crossbows," Yoren spat, standing up. "Take too long to load!" And he pulled out his sword, killing the soldier trying to recharge the crossbow.

The soldiers then fully charged against the men. Yoren killed the soldier running to him, cutting his middle, then turned around swing his sword and kill another one on his left. But then six more closed on him. He blocked the spear of one, but onether soldier stabbed him with his pierce on his side. Yoren yelled and dropped to his knees, still grasping his sword. He managed to stand up and killed the man who had stabbed him but the other five made him step back. Ser Lorch behind Yoren pulled up his sword and killed Yoren, stabbing him on his head.

Yoren spat blood before his corpse fell to the ground.

The men who had stayed back, yelled and ran to the soldiers angry for the murder of Yoren. Croll roared grabbing an ax and violently smash a soldier with it.

Gendry let go of Arya then and he ran back pulling out his sword. Ellion followed him suit.

"Stay here," Vyolet told Arya dropping the smelling cloak, pulling her quiver on her back and grabbing her bow she followed the boys. Arya didn't listen, of course and ran after them, only Hot Pie staying behind.

As Arya pulled out needle a voice called her and Arya stopped.

"Boy, come here. Boy!"

Arya turned around and saw Jaqen. The fire of the torch had extended through the dry grass to the cart where it set it on fire. It wouldn't be long until the three men inside would burn too.

"Sweet boy, help us," Jaqen called Arya. "A man can fight! Free us!"

They needed help to fight the soldiers, Arya thought, and that man was Vyolet's friend wasn't he?

Vyolet stood back, shooting arrows right and left. She shot down a soldier who was about to stab Gendry in the back and another who almost killed Croll. A soldier noticed her and ran to her and she shot him in the face barely three feet away.

Arya pulled Needle on her belt and ran to a forgotten ax on a wooden block. She pulled it out and passed it to Jaqen, running around the flames.

"Quick, give it to me. Give me the ax," Jaqen said, quickly taking the ax and passed it to the other two so they could open the cart.

Arya ran away running around some trees away from Vyolet's field of view and was knocked down violently by a man, dropping needle.

"What do we have here?" The man said picking up Needle from her hand.

"No!" Arya said, but the man pointed it at her chest.

"That's a fine little blade," the man told Arya. "Maybe I'll pick my teeth with it."

As he looked down on her, a couple of soldiers dragged Hot Pie away from the bushes and to her.

* * *

Vyolet looked around panicking, not seeing Arya. She saw Jaqen and the other two jumping out the burning wagon just a Lannister soldier ran to them. Jaqen looked up as the soldier swung the sword but Vyolet was faster. She shot an arrow through the man's neck, stopping him. The body crumbled in front of Jaqen who looked up at Vyolet and their eyes met. However a yell startled her and with horror she turned around.

Ellion was fighting with a soldier but he was bigger and more experienced. With a quick swing the man cut Ellion's hand cleanly and the sword dropped. The boy fell to his knees, screaming in pain and shock.

"Ellion!" Vyolet yelled, scared to death and hurried to fetch an arrow to kill the soldier but her hand closed in the air. Vyolet glanced down at her quiver and with horror saw it was empty. She started running but it was too late. The man stabbed the boy in the chest with his sword until the hilt hit his shirt. Then he pulled it out kicking the boy back. Ellion threw up a bunch of blood and fell back to the ground.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The Prisoner of Harrenhal

...

Time seemed to slow down. As the boy's body fell to the ground and Vyolet produced the eeriest heartbroken scream. Her bow hit the ground and her knees bent, her body falling too. But just the shock was quickly replaced by the red. She only saw red. Red everywhere. The red of Ellion's blood. The red of Lannister's banners.

Her first scream was followed by another. A roar almost. A lion demanding blood. A dragon ready to breath fire.

Most of the men had been killed or had surrendered, so they stood still watching the girl stood up, taking her sword and running to them. The first one to react tried to swing her sword at her, but she blocked it, turned and beheaded him quickly.

The soldiers yelled angered. Ser Lorch just watched the girl amused. That wasn't the dress of a peasant girl, he noticed, and those weren't the sword moves of an inexperienced fighter.

"Bring her, alive," he ordered the soldiers next to him. A couple had ran to her and she quickly disposed them, by stabbing one in the chest and another in the face.

Vyolet was seized by six men. She blocked the hit of one and cut the face of another but they were too many. A deep cut on her arm made her tumble and screamed but she didn't let go of her sword. She attacked the man that cut her and killed him, but it costed her her stance. A soldier knocked her from behind and two soldiers held her, while another took her sword away.

Vyolet trashed and screamed as she was dragged to Ser Lorch who just watched her amused.

"Ser, the bitch killed seven of our men," one of his men told him furiously.

"I wouldn't announce that out loud," Ser Lorch chastised him. "Aren't you embarrassed a girl this size beat your sorry arses?"

The man looked away angry and embarrassed. Vyolet stopped her thrashing and screaming and glared at Ser Lorch as he dismounted his horse and walked to her.

"You're not a farm girl, are you? No, you're a fine thing," he said, grabbing her chin softly and raising her head so he could watch her face.

Vyolet glared at him before spitting in his face. Lorch wiped his face with the back of his hand, his smile gone, and then slapped the girl so hard it broke her lip and knocked her to the ground.

Arya made a move to run to her but Gendry stopped her. Gendry glared at the men around Vyolet but if they intervened they would all die.

The men behind her quickly grabbed her and made her stood up. Lorch grabbed her face again, this time pressing his fingers hard on her. Vyolet met his eyes still glaring. Despite her broken lip and bruised cheek, the girl didn't look frightened. Lorch hadn't ever seen such a glare, not even from his own men. This tiny girl wasn't afraid of him. Well, he would change that. Lorch smirked.

"Maybe you just need to be broke down like a savage mare," he told her, letting his hand slid down to her neck.

"Don't touch me!" Vyolet yelled, kicking him. She got Lorch on his knee and this bent, almost making him fall. Enraged, the man slapped her again and threw her down to the ground on her back.

"Fine, then here, in front of these shits."

Before she could scramble up, the man fell onto her, grabbing her hands with one hand, the other starting to bunch her dress up. Gendry let go of Arya and ran to Vyolet but a guard raising his sword stopped him. He was about to dodge him when Vyolet yelled:

"Stop! Stop!" Vyolet tried to free her hands but he was too strong. She tried to kick him but he had pinned her. She wasn't afraid to die, but rape...

"I'm a Lannister!" It burst out of her mouth before she could stop it.

Ser Lorch stopped and looked at her. Arya looked at Gendry who looked at Vyolet agape, so Hot Pie and every captured men.

"What?"

"I'm Vyolet Lannister. Twywin Lannister is my uncle, and they've been looking for me for months now. Now get off me or he'll have your head!"

Ser Loche pulled down Vyolet's dress and let go off her hands. He stood up and turned to one of the goldcloaks.

"Ser Kinhey?"

"It's true, my lord. Vyolet Lannister disappeared from King's Landing. She was presumed kidnapped."

Ser Lorch turned to Vyolet again, assessing her. Her dress was dirty and stained with blood but it was expensive and she was wearing real jewels. The tiara she was wearing could have bought armor for a whole battalion. She was a high born lady, a messy one who had probably slept too many days outdoors but a lady nonetheless. But if she was a Lannister, why she fought off them? Why if she was kidnapped didn't help them kill her supposed captors? Something was definitely off about this.

"How do I know you're not lying?" Ser Lorch asked her as the girl scrambled to her feet. "That you just didn't hear that name around?"

"I have plenty of gold."

"That's not proof enough."

Vyolet raised her chin high, looking down at him like he was less than a dirt worm. Cersei would have been proud.

"Will you risk it? If you touch me, or any of this men, Tywin Lannister won't show mercy, my lord. And I'll make sure you deeply regret it I promise you this. And remember: a Lannister always pays her debts."

Ser Lorch gave her a look before bursting out laughing. Vyolet was taken aback by his reaction, but held her head high. This was her last card to play. She prayed it had n't been for nothing.

"You surely are arrogant enough," Lorch replied, looking at Vyolet. Then he gave her a smirk.

"Alright, nobody here will touch you, _my lady_ ," Lorch replied. "At least no until we know who you really are. Tie her up, put her in my horse."

Two men beside her quickly grabbed Vyolet by the arms and dragged her to Lorch's horse. Vyolet didn't resist, but glared at the men as they tied her hands and roughly sat her on the saddle. It would be for nothing. Besides, she was planning an escape plan already. King's Landing was a week's away.

Lorch nodded at his men.

"Round up any survivors. We'll take them back to Harrenhal.

Vyolet froze, looking down at him.

"Harrenhal? Are we not going back to King's Landing?" Her shock slipped into her voice and Lorch smiled.

"No, my lady. Tywin Lannister himself summoned us."

Vyolet paled and Lorch smiled sardonically to her.

"We'll find out the truth about you pretty soon."

Vyolet glared at him before looking away. Damn, damn, damn. One way was escaping a crowded King's Landing in the mid of a chaos situation like it was Ned Stark's execution, but it would be next to impossible fled Harrenhal under Tywin's watchful eye.

The Lannister bannermen lined the surviving recruits in a line. They were just ten left. Arya was among them, Vyolet noticed thanking the gods, and Hot Pie, Gendry and Barren, with a nasty cut on his leg. Croll's body was lying next to the fire, and despite their rocky start, despite he only had helped her because she paid him, Vyolet felt sad because of his death. Then, with a startle, Vyolet realized Jaqen wasn't among the survivors nor the dead. None of the three men in fact. Her blood boiled again, her heart squeezing tightly. That cowardly traitor! She thought. He had said he could fight. He had said he would help her. And she had saved him! She had wasted an arrow on him where it could have saved Ellion! She felt her eyes prickle but she just blinked furiously. She wouldn't cry in front of these men. She would rather die.

"Help me!" A voice cried then. It was Lommy, lying on the ground, an arrow sticking from his leg.

"Something wrong with your leg, boy?" A man with Arya's Needle approached him.

"Look at it," Lommy complained, looking at his bloodied leg.

"Can you walk?" The man asked Lommy.

"No. You got to carry me," the boy told him.

The man nodded.

"All right."

He knelt next to the boy, pulling out Needle. He grabbed the boy's hand and as he helped Lommy sit straight, the point of the thin sword went through his throat.

Lommy threw up blood before dying. The man let go of the boy's body and laughed out loud.

"Carry him," the man mocked Lommy and the other men laughed with him. Vyolet glared at them. Oh she hated them. The pack. If Tywin didn't lock her up or shipped her to King's Landing she would killed them.

"We're looking for a bastard named Gendry," Ser Loch told the survivors. "Give him up or I'll start taking eyeballs."

There was a pause. The men kept silence, but the doubt started showing up on their faces.

"You want Gendry?" Arya asked then. Gendry tensed up and looked at the girl and so did Vyolet, but Arya was smarter than¶ all the soldiers there.

"You already got him. He loved that helmet," Arya said nodding at Lommy. Indeed, Gendry's bull's helmet lied just a few inches away of the boy's dead fingers.

* * *

The soldiers couldn't touch or hurt Vyolet, by Lorch's orders and by fear of Tywin, but that didn't mean that they couldn't punish her. They stopped the next day to eat and rest for a while since they've been walking all night. Lorch put down Vyolet as he tied his horse to a tree. The girl looked back at Arya who sat under a tree near Gendry, then she turned back to Lorch.

"May I have some water please, my lord?" Vyolet asked him as politely as she could muster. She hoped she could passed some to Arya.

Ser Lorch turned to her and raised an eyebrow.

"Some water? You killed seven of my men, _my lady_. I think not."

Vyolet glared at the man as he took her roughly by the arm, her wounded arm. The girl clenched her teeth with all her might to not scream, but the pain shot through her body.

Lorch looked down at her.

"What's wrong?"

"My arm," Vyolet mustered. "It hurts."

"Well that's not my problem. You're the one who attacked, my lady," Ser Lorch mocked her with a smirk.

"Would you release my hands to tend my wounds, my lord?" Vyolet asked him, adding angrily a: "Please."

Ser Lorch didn't answer, just buffed.

"I am Tywin Lannister's niece. What would you think he would say if you take me to him without my arm?" Vyolet told the man coldly. Lorch turned to her, glaring at the insolent girl. He wasn't sure if she was a Lannister, but if she was and she died from an infection, Tywin Lannister would have their heads.

With a grunt the man took out a dagger and swiftly cut the rope bounding her hands. He then grabbed her arm, causing her a painful yelp and he leaned over the wound.

"It's not infected," Lorch told her, inspecting the wound. "It must be your shoulder. You must have pulled a muscle."

And before Vyolet could add anything his hand descended on her thin shoulder. His hands roughly massaged her shoulder, relieving her muscles. He helped her moved her arm gently and she felt better. That's it until his hands started brushing her waist and the sides of her breasts.

Vyolet stood up, pushing him away.

"I'm a lady, and you're a bannerman to my house," Vyolet spat angrily, glaring at the man. "So keep your hands to yourself or I'll ask Tywin to take them off."

Lorch smirked down at her.

"I was just looking for other injuries, my lady," Lorch lied shamelessly. "You're a bit older for me, anyway."

Vyolet's glare deepened.

"Older? I'm sixteen."

Lorch's only answered was a smirk that chilled Vyolet's blood and angered her so much she felt like she would burst.

"You disgust me," Vyolet spat at the man who only laughed at her.

"Too bad, my lady. I was going to give you some water."

* * *

The screams of the tortured men sprung among the melted rocks that adorned the way to Harrenhal. It was a horrible sight, specially for the prisoners who wondered what would become of them.

"Go on!"

"You, keep moving!"

"Bring her about!"

Were the shouts of another Lannister men bringing peasants from nearby villages to the castle.

Gendry stopped looking up at one destroyed column, shocked.

"What kind of fire melts stone?" He asked out loud.

"Dragon fire," Arya replied stopping next to him.

"There's dragons here?" Gendry asked her, looking around.

"No, all the dragons are gone."

"What's that smell?" Hot Pie intervened, his rounded face scrunching up in disgust.

"Dead people," Arya said.

"Move!" A soldier yelled at them and the three kept going.

At the rear end, Ser Lorch closed the caravan. His watchful eyes were on Arya, Gendry, Hot Pie and the others until they were on the lines with the other prisoners. Then, he moved his horse forward entering the castle.

Vyolet held on tightly to the saddle, fearing she would fall and Lorch would attempt to stop it. The way to Harrenhal was a steep narrow road full of stone big enough to break some of her body parts.

Finally they crossed the castle's gates and Lorch stopped on the courtyard where he was met by several servant boys.

Lorch pulled her down the horse roughly and grabbed her firmly by her arm.

"Come here, my lady. Time for a family reunion. Ser Clegane, where is Lord Tywin?"

Vyolet swallowed, terrified, as her eyes fell on a familiar gigantic man. The Mountain, who else, was the one supervising the torture of farmers whose screams filled the melted castle.

Clegane turned to Lorch, his face covered by his helmet.

"He isn't here yet. Who's this?" Clegane nodded at Vyolet.

Lorch smirked.

"A little gift for Lord Tywin."

"He doesn't like them that young."

"No, she's his niece, Vyolet Lannister or so does the girl claims," Lorch replied.

Vyolet swallowed as she felt Clegane's dark eyes on her. If he recognized her from King's Landing, he didn't say.

"Here's not here yet."

"Oh well, then I'll show my lady to her rooms," Lorch said, sarcastically dragging Vyolet away.

Vyolet turned around a last time, seeing Arya, Gendry and the others being conducted to the courtyard where the prisoners being tortured were. Her heart raced with fear but she tried to look composed and self assured as she faced Lorch.

"My lord, my friends-"

Lorch stopped suddenly, turning to her. His eyes glared at her.

"I don't think you understand me, my lady," Lorch told her coldly. "You are a prisoner here. If they haven't fucked you and killed you yet is because we don't know if you're a Lannister. Until then, I advise you to keep your mouth shut or I'll volunteer your friends for a little interrogation."

A jarring scream then rang as if emphasizing his words. Vyolet just glared at the man with all the hatred she was capable of. She would kill him, Vyolet decided then. She would kill him and let him suffer.

Lorch took her to a nearby tower. He found an empty room and threw her in. Vyolet turned to him, glaring a last time.

"Oh and I think one day more without food or water will suffice to repay for the men you take from me," Lorch told her. "Good day."

And the man closed the door leaving her alone, with just the outside screams filling the silence.

* * *

Arya, Gendry and Hot Pie were pushed on a horse's pen filled with other prisoners while just a feet away a man was screaming his heart out in pain.

"Please, please! No, no! NOOOOOO!"

The man screamed until he died.

"He's dead," an old woman then tell Arya, Gendry and Hot Pie. Her eyes were red rimmed and her face looked like she was already a cadaver. "He was my son. My sister was three days ago. My husband, the day before that."

"They take someone every day?" Gendry asked her softly. The woman nodded slightly.

"Does anyone live? Arya asked.

The woman didn't answer. The growing number decapitated heads on the walls of Harrenhal was answer enough.

That night, as the rain felt on them, Arya lied on the muddy cold ground looking at the sky, repeating the same names, over and over.

"Joffrey. Cersei. llyn Payne. The Hound."

Her prayer was interrupted by the old woman from before asking Polliver, the man in charge of making sure they didn't escape, for a bit of food. Polliver just punched the woman down.

As Arya looked at the sky again she added his name to her list.

* * *

The tower was cold and wet. The roof had big holes on it where rain felt, making puddles around Vyolet. The room was bare except for a wooden old table and chair and empty candlestick.

Vyolet was thisty, was starving and was so cold that hadn't been able to feel her toes since Lorch had locked her in this tower. But she didn't cared. She had tried climbing to the window before realizing it would be impossible. She had tried to use her powers to fly herself there, but she hadn't been able to leave the floor, she had made herself trip over and scratch her hands. And then she had tried to piled up the table and chair so she could reach it but she could even move the heavy table on her own. So she had just pounded in the door for an hour, before the exhaustion and the hunger defeated her.

The screams finally stopped when it got dark, but her stomach kept twisting thinking they may had killed Arya and Gendry already. She kept praying to the gods over and over to keep them safe and to helped them, somehow...

The door then opened and Vyolet jumped to her feet, grabbing the empty chandelier instinctively. She almost dropped it when she saw who it was.

Jaqen H'ghar, in a Lannister armor, smirked down at her.

It was almost like that moment at the battlefield. She felt anger and hatred filling her body and the girl saw red.

"You... You! You treacherous bastard...!"

Vyolet jumped to Jaqen, ready to hit him with the candlestick to a pulp. But in the wink of an eye, Jaqen had twisted the chandelier out of her hand and had turned her around. Vyolet started to trash around so Jaqen quickly, twisted her arm behind her back and pinned her to the table with a thud.

Vyolet felt fear filling her but she didn't stop trashing, trying to kick him.

"Are you going to rape me?" Vyolet spat angrily. She twisted her arms with all her strength but he held her firmly in place.

"A man would never do such a thing," Jaqen replied calmly and she swore he sounded indignant. "He's just trying to stop a girl from hurting herself."

Vyolet threw a kick but she didn't hit him.

"Lovely girl, please stop," Jaqen replied, amused. "If you promise not try to kill a man, he would release you."

Vyolet puffed, angrily. She looked around for something to throw at him but she didn't found anything. Besides he clearly was faster and stronger... It wouldn't hurt to hear his excuses. She could try to escape then...

"Fine. Let me go," she replied angrily.

Immediately Jaqen let her go and Vyolet straightened and stepped back to the other side of the room, far away from his hold. Vyolet glared at him, as she rubbed her redden wrists.

"Why are you here, Jaqen? I thought you've ran away," she spat angrily. Jaqen didn't look at all concerned of her anger.

"A man said he would not forget a girl's kindness," Jaqen said softly. "He has not. A man brought food for a girl and would give her the help he promised."

His words worked on Vyolet. She opened her eyes wide, her anger slipping away.

"The help? Help me escape?"

Jaqen bowed his head.

"If a girl wishes to."

Vyolet smiled, hope filling her soul.

"Yes, of course! Thank you, Jaqen! Let's go. Arya and the others are on the courtyard..."

But Jaqen stopped her on her way to the door.

"A man didn't mean now, sweet girl," he told her, shaking his head.

Vyolet frowned, confused.

"Then when?"

"A girl must be patient."

"Patient?" Vyolet snapped, anger returning to her quickly, as if it have never left. "They could kill them at any moment! Don't ask me to be patient!"

"A man can help a girl escape tonight, but not her friends," Jaqen told her matter-of-factly. "She would have to leave them behind."

"I cannot do that!"

"Then a girl must wait," Jaqen said, stepping closer to her. "A man would help her and her friends escape when the time is right."

Vyolet's frown deepened.

"But, they could die..."

Jaqen gave her a look that it was a mix between understanding and compassion. He smiled lightly.

"All of us could die at some point, lovely girl."

As if life wanted to prove Jaqen right a heart-wrenching scream cut the silence then. Vyolet turned to the window, biting her lip, and twisting her hands.

"A man promises no harm would befall a girl's friends," Jaqen's voice interrupted her thoughts and Vyolet turned surprised.

She nodded.

"Thank you, Jaqen."

The Lorathi bowed his head again.

"Now a girl must eat," he said and bent to retrieve a large brown bag on the floor. He must have dropped it when Vyolet attacked him but the girl hadn't noticed.

"I'm not hungry," Vyolet replied as he pulled out a roll of bread, wrapped in a cloth.

"A girl hasn't eaten in three days," Jaqen replied handling her the bread. "A man knows she's hungry."

Vyolet frowned, confused.

"How do you even know...? Forget it," she replied sighting, taking the bread and letting herself fall onto the chair. Of course he knew she hadn't eaten and who knows what else. This man seemed to know everything. She would be more concerned about that if she wasn't worrying about Arya, Gendry and Hot Pie.

As Vyolet unwrapped the bread, and bit into it, Jaqen pulled out a copper cup out of the bag and then a waterskin. He filled the cup and put it in front of her. Vyolet swallowed the bread, grabbed the cup and stared at the water. She was the prisoner now. She remembered that night when she had offered him the water. Ellion had been concerned for her. He was always worrying about her...

"Ellion is dead," she told Jaqen. "The blonde boy."

Jaqen stopped and looked at her.

"A man knew him. It was the boy a girl loved," he replied softly.

Vyolet nodded then grabbed the cup and took a big sip. How she wished it was wine.

"I did. And I never told him. Not really," Vyolet bit her lip and looked up at Jaqen. The man had an unreadable face but right now it was soft and his eyes looked empathetic of her pain. Vyolet sighed.

"He asked me to marry him, you know? And I said no because... How could I marry a servant boy? I told him and myself it was just practical but I couldn't tell him the truth. Now he's gone..." Vyolet's voice broke at the end, and she looked down. She wouldn't let Jaqen or anyone to see her tears. She wouldn't crumble down, but the pain was growing with each moment, suffocating her.

The Lorathi stared at her but a moment, letting her compose herself and then walked around, placing the bag on the floor. He knelt next to her and she looked up at him.

"A man is sorry for a girl, but starving herself won't bring the boy back," he told her.

Vyolet sighed and pushed the rest of the bread to her mouth quickly.

"Are you happy?" She asked Jaqen, her mouth full of bread. Manners be damned.

Jaqen smirked, amused. He grabbed the bag and pulled out an apple. He handled it to her and Vyolet stopped gobbling down the bread, staring at the red fruit. For the first time in three days, the girl smiled.

"You are full of surprises, Jaqen H'ghar," Vyolet told him, grabbing the apple.

Jaqen smiled at her reaction and stood up, leaning on the table next to her.

"Will a girl tell her name to a man?"

"Can't you figure it out? You're so smart after all," Vyolet teased him, with a sly smile, biting into the apple.

Jaqen's smirk widened, staring at her.

The girl chewed and swallowed the apple.

"Vyolet," she told him.

"Vyolet," Jaqen repeated. "You should rest. It would help your grief."

Vyolet was about to bite into the apple but stopped.

"I..."

She glanced at the door with apprehension. Lorch had said no one would touch her until Tywin arrived but she didn't trust much his authority in Harrenhal or him for that matter. She was exhausted but wouldn't sleep in case some drunk soldier decided to pay her a visit during the night.

Jaqen caught her scared glance and bent to grab the bag on the floor. He pulled a thin brown blanket out of it and handed it to her. The tower was too cold and she didn't have her cloak anymore.

Vyolet took the blanket and looked up at Jaqen.

"Do not fret, lovely girl, no one would enter this room. A man would make sure of it," he assured her, with a bow of his head.

Vyolet smiled at him thankfully and wrapped the blanket around her. Jaqen bunched up the empty bag and placed it on the table as a pillow. Vyolet put down the cup he had brought her and lied on the table, wrapping the blanket tighter around her.

"Sleep well, lovely girl," Jaqen said, before walking to the door. He caught a sight of her smile as he left.

As promised, he leaned on the closed door, guarding her sleep but he heard her. She cried and sobbed until the sedative in the water he gave her kicked in. Then, there was silence.

* * *

Vyolet had never slept so bad in her life. Not even when she was traveling with Yoren. She was cold, her whole body hurt and she felt emotionally drained. As soon as she opened her eyes and stared at the crumbling roof her first thought was about Ellion and Yoren. She thought about her mother and Esthis. It felt so far away though, as she had never lived that life. Like she had just dreamed about them and had just woke up.

There was a knock on the door and Vyolet immediately jumped down from the table.

"Yes?"

The door opened and Jaqen walked in, carrying a tray with food. He walked to the table and placed it down.

"Did they order you to be my maid?" Vyolet asked sarcastically, raising an eyebrow.

Jaqen turned to her, smirking softly.

"They ordered a man to starve a girl. Should he do it when a girl didn't let a man starve?"

Vyolet smiled softly and sat down at the table. He had brought her porridge, two pieces of bread and milk. How on earth he had managed to bring her all of this on a tray without being noticed? She didn't care much at the moment, Vyolet thought as she took a spoon of the porridge.

"A man brought something else for a girl," Jaqen told Vyolet, pulling out a small book out of his pocket.

Vyolet took it surprised. The pages were yellow and it had a stale smell. She looked up to Jaqen, puzzled.

"Loneliness can be an awful thing... Especially on these circumstances," Jaqen replied, shrugging.

Vyolet nodded, swallowing the knot in her throat difficulty. Jaqen had just repaid her kindness ten times already.

"How are they?" Vyolet asked him. "Arry, Gendry and Hot Pie."

"They live. They're outside in the courtyard."

Jaqen waited for her to finish her breakfast before taking the tray away, promising to come back with news about her friends. Vyolet sat back and started reading the book, thankful to have something to take her mind out of the horrible thoughts. Unfortunatelly the screams soon resumed and got louder and louder, drowning the words in Vyolet's book.

* * *

The Tickler, the man torturing the prisoners, had just finished killing another man. Polliver cut of his head and a servant nailed it to the pen where the prisoners were held.

Ser Clegane then walked to them, ready to pick another victim.

Gendry, Arya and Hot Pie stood up close to each other, staring at the ground, waiting for Clegane to choose.

"You."

The three kids looked up, as Clegane's fat big finger pointed at Gendry.

Arya stood back, horrified, as two guards dragged Gendry away from the pen and to the chair where so many men had died already.

Arya couldn't do or say anything. She would only get them both kill. She stood back as the guards tied Gendry to the chair and the Tickler approached him.

"Is there gold or silver in the village?" The Tickler asked the boy.

"I'm not from the village," Gendry replied as calmed as he could. He stared back at the Tickler, showing him no fear.

"Where is the Brotherhood?" Asked the Tickler sitting in front of Gendry.

"I don't know what that is," the boy replied.

The Tickler nodded at the guard who picked a new rat and placed it on a bucket. The man opened Gendry's shirt, leaving bare his belly, and place the bucket against it.

Gendry took a deep breath, ready to accept his death when hoof beats interrupted them.

Tywin Lannister crossed the opened gates of Harrenhal, followed by his guard. He crossed the courtyard, noticing the prisoners and directed his horse until he stood in front of them.

"What's this?" Tywin asked the Mountain as a guard held Tywin's horse and the man dismounted.

"We weren't expecting you till tomorrow, Lord Tywin," Clegane told him with a bow.

"Evidently not," Tywin replied sarcastically, approaching him, looking down at the all had feel to their knees except for¶ Arya, who stood frozen.

"Why are these prisoners not in their cells?"

"Cells are overflowing, my lord," Clegane replied.

"This lot won't be here long," Polliver intervened with a bow to Tywin. "Don't need no permanent place. After we interrogate 'em, we usually just..."

He pointed at the several nailed heads.

Tywin walked around the prisoners, clearly displeased.

"Are we so well-manned that we can afford to discard able young bodies and skilled laborers?" Tywin interrupted him, staring him down.

Polliver didn't reply. Tywin noticed Gendry tied down to the chair and walked to him.

"You, do you have a trade?" Tywin asked the boy.

"Smith, my lord," Gendry replied.

Polliver then noticed Arya was standing and looking at Tywin.

"What are you looking at? Kneel!" He yelled at Arya, pulling out his sword.

Arya stepped back quickly, her eyes wide in fear.

"Kneel or I'll carve your lungs out, boy," Polliver told Arya, pointing his sword at her.

"He'll do no such thing," Tywin intervened walking to the pen, surprising both Polliver an Arya. "This one's a girl, you idiot, dressed as a boy."

Tywin looked Arya up and down, assessing her.

"Why?"

"Safer to travel, my lord," Arya replied quickly.

"Smart," Tywin recognized. "More than I can say for this lot."

He looked at Polliver and at Clegane angrily.

"Get these prisoners to work. Bring the girl," he added looking at Arya. "I need a new cupbearer."

"My Lord."

Both Clegane and Polliver bowed their heads.

"And I heard you found my niece," Tywin told Clegane. "I'd like to see her now."

* * *

The tower's door opened with a boom, scaring Vyolet out of her skin. She quickly dropped the book to the ground, noticing it was ser Clegane instead of Jaqen.

"Lord Tywin arrived sooner than expected. Come on."

Vyolet didn't dare to disobey or escape. She knew the Mountain. He could break her in two like a toothpick. Besides it was better follow him than let him drag her.

Clegane took her to Tywin's council room in Harrenhal. It was a big room with holes in the walls, dark and gloomy. Except for the burning fire. Clegane knocked before letting her pass.

"My lord."

Vyolet walked in the room with all the grace and dignity she could muster in her state. She noticed ser Lorch was sitting at the table smirking at Vyolet, next to Tywin. The man stood up surrounding the table and walked to the girl. She hadn't seen much of the girl these past years, but beneath the dirt and disarranged appearance of the girl he saw Aerys eyes looking back at him.

Tywin smiled softly.

"My dear Vyolet, long time no see."

Lorch's smile faded as soon as those words left Tywin's mouth. As Tywin inspected Vyolet's dreadful state Lorch understood he had fucked up. Big time.

"Welcome back uncle," Vyolet replied with a dainty bow. Tywin's eyes caught on the bruises on her face and the man placed a hand beneath her chin, raising her face softly to him.

"Ser Lorch," Tywin said.

"Yes my lord?"

Lorch made a bow almost to the floor. Gods help him.

"Did my niece fell from her horse?" Tywin asked him coldly.

"My lord?" Lorch replied confused.

Tywin turned his face to him, glaring down at the man.

"I'm just wondering since her face is all bruised up. I can't possibly imagine my bannerman hitting a defenseless girl, especially my niece."

"She killed seven of my men, my lord," Lorch replied quickly. "And we didn't know it was your niece. She wasn't defenseless when we found her."

Tywin's stare shut Lorch's pleas.

"You know now," he replied and then frowned looking at Vyolet and then at him. "Seven? My niece killed seven of the soldiers I paid to train? And you were killing manpower outside, ser Clegane."

Vyolet had seen regularly Tywin at Casterly Rock and she knew he wasn't a man to be trifled with. But now he was livid. If he didn't kill Lorch, she would be surprised.

Then a knock on the door interrupted them and a servant girl entered, followed by two guards.

"Mi lord?" The girl and guards made a deep bow.

"Yes. Come on in," Tywin replied, gesturing at them. "This is my niece Vyolet Lannister. You will serve her from now on. You and another two girls of your choosing. Prepare her a hot bath and fetch her a more dignified dress than the rags she's wearing. Something warm. Also, bring her something to eat," Tywin ordered the girl who made a deep bow before leaving the room quickly.

Then Tywin turned to the guards.

"You two will now accompany my niece. She's not to leave Harrenhal until I say so and she's forbidden from sending any type of message. If you discovered she's trying to send one, kill the messenger."

Tywin's message to Vyolet was loud and clear. She looked down, glaring at the floor.

"You will also protect her," Tywin continued. "I don't want to see her face in this state ever again. How many times ser Lorch hit you, Vyolet?" Tywin surprised her by asking.

Vyolet looked up at her uncle and then at Lorch. She hated both men right now, but she didn't hate Tywin as much as Lorch.

"Three slaps, on the face," Vyolet responded, glaring at ser Lorch. The man glared back but he was more scared than angry.

Tywin turned to the Mountain and nodded.

"Ser Clegane."

The Mountain stepped to ser Lorch and a colossal slap sent the man to the floor. It was more of a punch actually. Vyolet saw a teeth flying out and felt a sick satisfaction. The Mountain picked up Lorch like a ragged doll and hit him two more times. Lorch's face looked purple, he had lost at least three teeth and both his eyes were swelling up. He was lucky though. The Mountain hadn't killed him.

"Now leave us, both of you. I'll talk to you later," Tywin ordered. The Mountain made a bow and dragged Lorch out.

Tywin waited for the door to be closed before walking to the table near the wall. He grabbed a jug and poured water on a cup, then turned to Vyolet and handled it to her.

"Here."

Vyolet took it.

"Thank you," she replied before taking a small sip.

Tywin watched her closely.

"You should be dying of thirst and I doubt my men gave you water seeing your state. Who gave you water?" He asked her.

Vyolet stared down at her cup, fearfully, but trying to control her facial expressions. There was no way she would rat Jaqen out and threw away her only chance to escape.

"No one," she replied innocently.

Tywin looked at her, before stepping away from her, giving her space.

"I'm not going to hurt them. If anything I'll reward them," Tywin assured her, but Vyolet knew better than to trust a Lannister. She herself was one.

"I don't who he is," she lied smoothly. "He just brought me food and water in a sack before closing the door. I couldn't see his face."

"But it was a he," Tywin replied, slyly.

Vyolet nodded. She doubted he could find about Jaqen with just that information.

There was another pause. Vyolet was praying for the servant girl to return for her quickly. On her way here she had seen the prisoners being released and put to work but she couldn't be sure her friends hadn't been thrown into a dungeon. She needed to find out.

"Did my men... hurt you?"

Tywin's question and the softness of his voice took her by surprise. The girl looked up startled.

"They hit me," she replied.

"Yes, that's quite clear. However I didn't mean that kind of..."

"I still have my... virtue intact. If that's what you're asking, uncle," Vyolet interrupted him.

"Good."

"But they touched me."

Tywin looked at her, his eyes turning cold.

"Give me their names. If Polliver is so eager to torture men, I'll give them a few useless ones."

"I don't know their names."

She wasn't protecting Lorch, but she wouldn't let Tywin kill him. She would kill him herself for all the times his hands had found their way into her body.

"Well, when you see them just tell ser Clegane, alright?" Tywin told her and Vyolet nodded.

Then, a there was a knock on the door.

"Enter."

The servant girl from before entered the room making a bow. Vyolet thank the gods for this encounter to be over.

"Mi lord. My lady, your bath is ready."

Tywin nodded, looking at Vyolet.

"Go child. I don't want to see you until you have eaten something and rest... Vyolet, which room did they give you?"

"It was a tower. The one in the north I think."

Tywin looked at Vyolet and then at the girl.

"Girl, prepare my niece a room on the east wing, if you please."

The girl made another bow.

"Mi lord. Come, my lady. This way."

"Vyolet, one last thing," Tywin stopped Vyolet as she was walking to the door. Vyolet hesitantly stop and turned to him.

"I'm sorry my men treated you this way. I swear to you they will never do such a thing again," Tywin told her, firmly. Despite her hate towards the man, Vyolet felt safe already, at least on that regard.

Vyolet nodded.

"Thank you, uncle."

"But never try to escape again," Tywin warned her, sitting down at his table pulling out his quill and a paper. He gave her a look.

"For your sake and your friends'."


	9. Chapter 9

**Thank you guys, for your lovely reviews and for reading my story. I'm glad you're enjoying it.**

* * *

Chapter 9

The Lion and the Dragon

...

Vyolet could finally breathe after she left Tywin's rooms behind. But she didn't feel relief. The same chocking sensation she had felt under Cersei's watchful eye return, ten times stronger. Cersei was an intelligent woman, but she was stubborn and capricious. Vyolet could handle that. But Tywin was completely different from his daughter. He was a cold calculating man. Deceive him or try to escape would be almost impossible, even with Jaqen's help.

The three maids took Vyolet to her new room where the two guards Tywin had imposed on her, stood outside her doors. The girl was too overwhelmed to care about them right now.

Her room was gloomy like the rest of Harrenhal. Even when this room was richly furnished and had a fire creeping in, it still looked like ghosts lived in. A tub had been brought and placed in front of the fire. Two maids were just finishing filling it.

They made courtesies to Vyolet, before leaving the room.

It hadn't been that long since the girl had had a bath. The last time was around two weeks ago, but the hot water in her body felt like she hadn't had one in years. The water soothed her. Getting rid of the dirt, sweat and dried blood on her skin felt like getting rid of a heavy burden. One of many. The maids also washed her hair. It took them awhile extracting the pearl tiara, tangled in her hair. Finally, they left the piece of jewelry on a table next to her and Vyolet stared at it as the maids scrubbed her hair with a floral formula and brushed it until they got rid of all her knots. Watching the tiara she remembered all the times Yoren made fun of her because she refused to take it off. Now it lay discarded dirty and unpolished, tangled with a couple of her hairs and twigs.

The first time Vyolet saw her bare body on a mirror in the room was a shock. It was covered in bruises and red marks. But it was nothing compared to her face. She understood then Tywin's indignation. Her broken lip had a big scab on it and it was still red, and her right cheek was a dark shade of purple. There were more bruises down her neck.

Her maids rubbed a tonic potion in the several bruises that covered her body and face but Vyolet knew she would be sporting those bruises for a while. Then the maids dressed her in a warm, thick velvet dress. It was Lannister red. She hated it. Hated the color that remained her of Ellion's death, but she put it on without complains. If that helped appeased Tywin, so be it.

Her uncle had ordered her to eat and rest, but that bath had energized her. She had wanted to go out and look for her friends but her maids insisted she had to eat first.

She felt impatient waiting for the girls to bring her a meal. Jaqen had said Arya, Gendry and Hot Pie were safe but that was before Tywin's arrival.

The three maids brought her roasted rabbit with potatoes and carrots, and sweet cakes and wine, but she felt to guilty to eat much. Arya was just a little girl and she hadn't eaten in more days than her.

By the time she finally left her room, the sun was almost setting and her handmaids insisted she should rest first before looking for her friends. Vyolet ignored them as they followed her along with her guards.

"M'lady, please. You must be exhausted..."

"What is your name?" Vyolet asked her, taking her by surprise. The girl looked at Vyolet afraid before responding:

"Trysta, m'lady."

"Trysta, what did my uncle did with the prisoners in the courtyard?" Vyolet asked the girl. "Are they still being tortured?"

"No, m'lady," Trysta replied surprised, exchanging a confused look with the other two maids. "They were put to work."

Vyolet nodded, swallowing a knot on her throat. Where would they have sent Arya and the others? Hot Pie was good cooking. Maybe he and Arya were down at the kitchens.

"Take me to the kitchens, Trysta," Vyolet told the girl, who nodded and guided the girl.

The kitchens were in a different building outside. It was rounded and as big as a large castle's hall. There were big fireplaces with large pots being stirred. Large tables in the middle were people were busy cutting vegetables, preparing dough or cutting open animals.

Vyolet crossed paths with several boys running out of the kitchen carrying trays or pitchers, but when she entered the closest to her started bowing, looking at her a bit startled.

"Mi lady."

"Mi lady."

Vyolet acknowledged them with a nod and then turned to Trysta.

"Who's in charge of the kitchens?" Vyolet asked.

"Master Josier, my lady," Trysta responded guiding Vyolet once more.

A large man with a sweaty face and a large sturdy beard turned to Vyolet surprised but quickly made a deep bow.

"My lady."

"Master Josier, I presume," Vyolet replied. "I'm looking for a couple of boys. I understand my uncle put to work some of the prisoners here."

Master Josier nodded.

"Yes, my lady. How are the boys you're looking for?"

"Well, hum, one is a tall boy, a little heavy in size," Vyolet replied thinking of Hot Pie. It was better to ask first for him. He could tell her what happen to Arya without bringing unwanted attention towards the little girl.

Master Josier huffed, nodding again.

"I know who you're talking about, my lady," he replied with a smile. Then turned and walked to the farthest tables. Vyolet quickly followed him.

"Hey you, boy!"

There were several boys in that table cutting vegetables. The biggest of them was unmistakable. Hot Pie's rounded and confused face turned. He opened his eyes surprised when he saw Vyolet.

"Hot Pie!" The girl exclaimed relieved, seeing the boy alive and unharmed.

"Lady Lyna, I mean Lady Lannister," the boy stammered.

"Shut up, you idiot." Vyolet laughed, rolling her eyes, and pulled him to a quick hug. Hot Pie couldn't tell who was more surprised at that, if him or the people around.

"Are you okay?" Vyolet asked him, pulling away.

Hot Pie flustered by the hug nodded clumsily.

"Where's Ary... Arry?"

"Did you know Arry's a girl?" Hot Pie asked her.

Vyolet's heart dropped to her knees and it took everything to keep her smile into place.

"That's absurd. Who did ever tell you that?"

"Lord Tywin. He told everyone there," Hot Pie replied.

Vyolet frowned, her heart racing.

"What?"

Vyolet looked around quickly but none of those boys were Arya. She looked at Hot Pie again.

"Where is she Hot Pie?" Vyolet asked the boy.

"Lord Tywin made her his cupbearer. She's with him right now, but comes down here from time to time to get them food."

"Is she... safe?"

Hot Pie nodded.

"Yes."

Vyolet sighed, relieved starting to sip in. Tywin would keep her safe even if the others knew she was a girl. But still, she would make clear to every man in Harrenhal they better stay away from her and don't hurt her.

"Good. What about Gendry?"

"He's down at the armory. He was made the smith's apprentice," Hot Pie replied.

Vyolet nodded, finally calm. Their friends were all safe.

"Thank the gods. Have you eaten already?"

"Why-I..."

Vyolet turned to Master Josier, frowning upset.

"Have you not feed him yet? He hasn't eaten for days!"

"My lady I..."

"Feed him," Vyolet interrupted him. "And when a little girl named Arry comes down, feed her as well and sent her to me. And give them real food. You have plenty here."

Master Josier looked at her and then at Hot Pie taken aback and a little indignant, but he knew better than to question Tywin's niece. He had seen ser Lorch's face and that was plenty incentive to obey her wishes.

"Yes, my lady," he replied, bowing his head.

Vyolet smiled at the boy.

"Oh and Hot Pie..."

"Yes?"

"It's lady Vyolet."

Finding Gendry was easier because Vyolet now knew her friends were safe. She followed Trsyta down to the armory and she immediately spotted Gendry.

"Gendry. Good! Are you alright?"

Gendry, who had been hammering onto a raw sword, looked up. Vyolet couldn't read his face. He didn't look happy to see her, he just looked surprised.

"I'm alive," he replied coldly.

"That's good," Vyolet replied taken aback. She turned to her maids and guards and ordered them to give her a bit privacy. Under her new arrangement, that meant saying a couple of steps behind.

"So this is who you are," Gendry told her, once they were relatively alone. His face now looked angry and Vyolet looked at him, shocked at his aggresive tone.

"Excuse me?"

"You're a Lannister," he practically spat.

"Yes."

"This castle is your family's. The deaths of all those people were cause by your family," Gendry replied, nodding at the walls were the severed heads could still be seen.

Vyolet understood his anger then and looked at him apologetically.

"I'm not proud of that."

"You don't seem to ashamed of it."

Vyolet blinked, feeling like had just slapped her.

"Do you think I approve of any of this? Do you think I'm glad Ellion and Yoren are dead?" Vyolet asked him, getting as angry as him.

"You are not doing anything to stop them, _m'lady_ ," Gendry accused her.

"Because I can't," Vyolet snapped glaring at him. "I may be wearing silk and pearls but that doesn't make me any less a prisoner than you. If I tried to escape they would just drag me in. I may be as well still locked on that tower and when time comes, I'll be carried away in chains to King's Landing like a broodmare. So no, I'm sorry I cannot do anything!"

Vyolet hadn't realized her voice had been getting higher. Within seconds her maids and guards were on her side.

"My lady is everything alright?" Trsyta asked her, the guards looking at Gendry, starting to pull out their swords.

"Yes, I'm fine."

Before leaving Vyolet turned to Gendry one more. He glared at her, she glared back.

"One more thing, Gendry. Insinuate again I'm responsible of Ellion's death again and I'll punch your teeth out myself, lady or not. Good day."

* * *

The rest of day Vyolet thought about what Gendry had told her. She had threatened him but she kept pondering over and over. Had she really being responsible for Ellion's death? She was, wasn't she? If he hadn't met her, if he hadn't help her, he would still be alive.

Her pondering were interrupted when Arya knocked on her door.

Vyolet hugged the girl tightly, despite her filthy state.

"You don't how worried I've been. Are you alright?" Vyolet asked Arya.

Arya nodded but didn't say anything else since the maids were Vyolet in her room. Then Vyolet pushed Arya to a bath she had prepared for the girl. She resisted at first, almost like trying to put a cat on a tub, but finally she let the maids wash her as sat next to her.

"Did my uncle is treating you well?" Vyolet asked Arya.

Arya nodded. They couldn't talk freely, so Vyolet just told her she had seen Hot Pie and Gendry, though she didn't mention their fight.

As Arya escaped from the bathtub once clean, she was wrapped in linens and placed in front of the fireplace so she could dry. The child eye's looked around, noticing the book Vyolet had been reading before she arrived.

"What you were reading?" Arya asked her.

Vyolet grabbed the book and showed it to her.

"The Lord of Lychester."

"What is this about?"

"It's an old story. Some people say it's true. It was Tywin's favorite when he was a kid."

"Really?"

Vyolet nodded.

"Does it have dragons?"

"No. It's about revenge. The Lord of Lychester started as a knight. The knight of Nalor. His house was a minor house, but he was an honorable and loyal men, to his people and his family. But then he was betrayed by those he thought of his friends. He was thrown in a dungeon to die. He didn't thought. He met an old man who had been betrayed as well by his men. He told the knight he had a big treasure, hidden in the Riverlands waiting for him and if the knight help him escape, he could have half."

"And they escaped," Arya guessed.

"Only the knight," Vyolet replied with a smile, seeing her face curious. "The old man died while escaping, crushing by a rock, but the knight knew where to find the treasure. He did and honored the old man by taking his name. The Lord of Lychester. He then returned to court as a foreign rich man. He was quickly accepted by the lords and under this disguise he took his revenge. He was no longer honorable. The first man was the one who kept all the money of his house and took it to the ruin. The Lord of Lychester ruined him with plots and the greedy man hung himself. When they found him they saw an iris bow tied on his chest."

"Iris? It's like purple, isn't it?" Arya asked.

"It's more like violet, actually."

Arya smiled.

"What happened next?"

The second man, the one responsible for his imprisonment died. They found him with a sword wound. They said he had died in a drunken duel. So he died disgraced. He had an iris bow as well. The third and last man was killed during a party thrown by Lord of Lychester. He confessed his hand on the murder of the two as well as his real identity. He duel the third man and killed him, placing a last iris bow on his chest before running away. He took his wife who had thought him dead and the son he never knew. They lived their rest of their days in Pentos as wealthy people."

"So it has a happy ending," Arya reasoned.

Vyolet smiled bitterly.

"Not really. Revenge is not happy, though it maybe satisfactory. The Lord of Lychester lived a wealthy life with his family but they never forget the horrible things he did. Revenge consumed him."

Both Arya and Vyolet stared at the fire, but thinking about the story and their own injustices.

"Why does Tywin like that story?" Arya asked Vyolet.

"Before him, the House Lannister was a small house. Tywin fought hard to built the house that is now. And the Lord of Lychenster, before killing his enemys told them: I always pay what I owe. Not as catchy as the one Tywin coined but there you have it."

In the end, their reunion was short lived. She wanted Arya to stay but she knew it wouldn't be wise. Tywin knew she was a girl almost immediately. Arya didn't need the extra attention, so she just let her go to go and sleep with the other kids from the kitchens, complaining about her hair smelling too much like perfume. Vyolet couldn't help laughing, thinking of her own sister, Laena. Arya was so much like her. Too fierce. Too stubborn.

* * *

Time seemed to slow down. Vyolet screamed as Ellion felt to the ground. Then her legs pushed her towards him. Not fast enough. She seemed so slow, and Vyolet screamed in frustration.

Vyolet finally reached Ellion, and when she knelt next to him, he was still alive. A drip of blood felt from her mouth and he turned to her.

"I'm sorry," the girl sobbed. "I'm so sorry. I love you. I do love you. I'll go with you..."

But then the boy caught fire. His whole body was swallowed by flames and Vyolet screamed, trying to pull his body out. But this just turned to ashes sipping through her fingers as the fire surrounded her like a warm blanket.

There was only fire wherever she saw. The field was gone. The soldiers and her friends were gone. The only thing was the fire. It crept slowly, the sound filling her ears.

Then there was a roar. A roar she had never heard in her life but still sound familiar at the same time. Vyolet looked up to the dark sky, tears rolling down her eyes, and a shadow covered the moon. A large shadow.

A sudden blast of air knocked her to the ground, extinguishing the flames around her. And the earth trembled as a powerful creature landed in front of her. Vyolet raised her eyes and found two yellow pupils staring down at her.

It was a dragon. The girl knew. A large blue dragon. And she wasn't scared.

Vyolet slowly raised to her knees, her face leveling with the dragon's. She raised a hand and touch it's snout. The dragon closed its eyes. Vyolet knew the dragon, its name on the tip of her tongue but she couldn't quite place it.

Then there was another roar.

Vyolet turned afraid and saw another dragon, this time in the sky. It was as big as this one, but black and red, descending on them. The blue dragon roared as well before breathing fire. The black dragon spit fire too, as Vyolet got caught in the middle...

Vyolet gasped for air, twisting in her sheets. The girl opened her eyes, the dark ceiling of her room greeting her. She trembled, her body covered in cold sweat, her breath ragged.

It was just a nightmare, she told herself, closing her eyes. Just a nightmare.

* * *

The next day Vyolet stayed in her room. She didn't want to cross paths with Gendry, Arya was locked with Tywin in a long meeting with the other lords and this place was too horrible to stroll around.

She just stayed in, getting to know her other two handmaids, Bryce and Avya.

Late in the afternoon however, a servant boy knocked on her door.

"Mi lady, your uncle is soliciting your presence."

Vyolet sighed and followed the boy. She had hoped this meeting would take the whole days. She didn't want to talk to Tywin just yet.

Tywin surprisingly was waiting for her in the corridor to his room. He was looking out through a window, his face severe and cold. He looked up when he heard the steps.

"Uncle," Vyolet greeted him with a bow.

"I trust you sleep well."

Vyolet nodded.

"I had," she lied. Tywin raised an eyebrow, the dark circles under her eyes betraying her, but didn't say anything.

"Good. We have still many things to discuss."

"Do we?"

Tywin gave her a look.

"You ran away from King's Landing resulting in those injuries."

He pointed at her bruised face.

"Really? I thought your banner men where the ones punching my face," Vyolet said sarcastically.

"I have settled that matter," Tywin replied upset.

"So you've said."

Tywin gave her another look before taking her by surprise with a new question.

"Who helped you run away?"

Vyolet blanked her face of all expressions but contempt before replying.

"Escape," she clarified. "I escape Cersei and her mad reign. I think you're familiar with those."

"You should be more careful child," Tywind scolded her, giving her a chilling look. "My daughter is queen."

"Mother queen," Vyolet replied not scared. "Joffrey is king. Can't imagine you're too happy about that."

"I won't repeat the question again," Tywin said, exasperated. "Who help you?"

Vyolet gave him a bitter smile before shrugging.

"What does it matter? Your men killed him, before attempting to rape me. So you can rest safe knowing he won't be able to help me anymore."

"That man from the Night's Watch didn't do it alone," Tywin said. "Who paid him?"

"Lord Stark. Also dead," Vyolet replied sarcastically.

"I won't tell you a third time to watch yourself, Vyolet."

The girl didn't reply, she just stare outside the window. Down there a few men were laughing about something.

"Lord Stark didn't paid him to help you," Tywin said.

"He did."

"Then why he left her daughters behind? I doubted you were much more important to him, knowing the man," Tywin asked her.

"Yes. He had a plan to get Sansa and Arya out of the city. But they were going with his servants. I was going with the Night's Watch men. We were supposed to meet in the way."

"And then what?"

Vyolet shrugged.

"I didn't ask. I was just grateful to escape Joffrey's bed."

"You're not to marry Joffrey. Not with the war going on."

"Thank the gods."

Tywin gave her another look.

"But you're going to be returned there. If this war complicates we could use your real lineage."

Vyolet at him, like he had said something absurd.

"I don't know what..."

"I'm not my daughter, Vyolet," Tywin interrupted her. "You may be a good actress but I know a lie when I see one. Jaime told me you are Aerys bastard. But I don't need his word. I knew the man. He looked at me the same way you're doing it. You have his eyes."

Vyolet took a deep breath before looking at the window again.

"You can't use the fact that my father was Aerys Targaryen to help you in this war. My mother is not a Lannister by birth. The throne wouldn't stay within the family," she replied with bitter sarcasm, and a smirk.

"It would if you marry Joffrey," Tywin replied shrugging. "Then neither Renly or Stannis can use their claim. Joffrey is Robert's son and you're Aerys daughter. Their supporters will quickly leave them."

Vyolet looked at him, fear starting to creep in her, but her face didn't show it, she wouldn't let it. She turned to Tywin with a defiant look.

"But what about Robb Stark? Isn't that why Sansa is still betrothed to Joffrey? Poor child. I heard Robb's causing real troubles to your troops."

"Robb Stark is not my only concern," Tywin replied. "I have many enemies. Our family has always had them."

"Yes but this is different."

"How so?"

Tywin turned to her.

"Joffrey is a monster. You know that I know that. Gods, even Cersei knows that," Vyolet said, shaking her head. "If you have heard the things the villagers talk about him. He or Cersei or both ordered the King's Guard to murder all of Robert's bastards. His guards took the babes out of their mother's arms and killed them in cold blood. Common people hate Joffrey. They're just scared of him. They just need a new candidate. People don't care about Stannis but Renly has the lords' support and Robb Stark's the people. He's the young warrior from the North who came to avenge his wrongfully killed father."

"Ned Stark was a traitor."

"Not to the North, or the common people," Vyolet contradicted Tywin. "They saw Joffrey's killing babies as a pastime like an admission of his own illegitimacy."

"That's high treason."

"I didn't say I believed that, uncle," Vyolet lied poorly and shamelessly. "I just pointed out the common people's point of view. Lords and nobles tend to ignore them, but when things get ugly, when the people get hungry, they do want to be heard. And things are getting ugly."

Vyolet held Tywin's stare and to her utter surprise he smirk.

"You were on the road for months with a bunch of criminals and I still have more insight from you that from my own council," Tywin replied nodding at the door behind him.

"You're meeting is not over?" Vyolet asked him, confused.

"No. They haven't come up with anything useful all day," Tywin replied angrily then turned to Vyolet and extended his arm for her to take.

"Come with me."

Vyolet didn't want to, but didn't dare to disobey. She took the offered arm and let herself be dragged into the gloomy dark behind them. Her uncles and their bannermen swore to the Lannisters were there. And so did Arya.

They exchanged a look.

"Lord Tywin. My lady," the lords greeted Vyolet who bowed her head back. It was a tense awkward moment. Ser Lorch was present. His face looked still swollen and purple and she wasn't sure his left eye was still working. And of course, Vyolet's face was still bruised, Lorch's abuses and mistakes plain for everyone to see.

"My lords."

Tywin moved back the empty chair in the end of the table for Vyolet to sit on, then he walked to his place on the head.

"My lords could use some of your wits, Vyolet. We've been here quite a while and I need a resolution to this matter."

Vyolet exchanged another looked with Arya as Tywin sat on the table.

"So go on," Tywin told the lords. "Explain the situation to my niece."

The lords exchange looks before doing as told.

"The Starks have overextended their lines. Now that summer's over, they'll have a hard time keeping their men and horses fed," uncle Harrion said.

"The Starks understand winter better than we ever will," Tywin interrupted him. "The cold won't beat them."

"Our spies report growing discontent among the Northern lords. They want to return home and gather the harvest before the crops turn," ser Lorch intervened.

"And I'm sure if those same spies snuck into our own encampments, they would report growing discontent among the Southern lords," Tywin replied sarcastically. "This is war, no one's content."

There was a paused were most of the men avoided Tywin's look. Only Vyolet held his stare.

"We've underestimated the Stark boy for too long. He has a good mind for warfare, his men worship him. And as long as he keeps winning battles, they'll keep believing he is King in the North. You've been waiting for him to fail. He is not going to fail, not without our help."

Vyolet saw by the corner of her eye Arya busing herself on the refreshing table. She couldn't imagine what she may be feeling.

"So how do we stop him?"

Tywin's eyes stared at Vyolet but she wasn't thinking of helping him anytime soon. Thanks god good old uncle Reginald intervened, while munching on pheasant no less.

"We've worked through the night, my lord. Perhaps we'd profit from some sleep," the lazy man replied.

"Yes, I think you would, Reginald. And because you're my cousin, I might even let you wake from that sleep," Tywin snapped at Reginald. "Go, I'm sure your wife must miss you."

"My wife's in Lannisport," Reginald replied confused.

"Well, then you'd better start riding," Tywin told him. "Go, before I change my mind and send her your head. If your name wasn't Lannister, you'd be scrubbing out pots in the cook's tent. Go!"

As Reginald stumbled to the door, Arya walked to Tywin's side with her pitcher ready.

"Not wine, water," Tywin told her. We'll be here for some time."

Arya bowed her head and returned the pitcher to the table, but Tywin stopped her.

"Girl. Where are you from?" He asked her.

Vyolet looked at Tywin, trying to look calm.

"Maidenpool, my lord," Arya replied.

"And who are the Lords of Maidenpool? Remind me," Tywin asked her.

"House Mooton, my lord."

"And what is their sigil?"

There was a long pause but Vyolet wasn't sure she couldn't help Arya wihout Tywin noticing.

"A red salmon," Tywin replied, raising an eyebrow at Arya. "I think a Maidenpool girl would remember that. You're a Northerner, aren't you?"

Arya nodded.

"Good. One more time, where are you from?"

"Barrowton, my lord. House Dustin. Two crossed longaxes beneath a black crown," Arya replied quickly.

"And what do they say of Robb Stark in the North?" Tywin asked her.

"They call him the Young Wolf."

"And?"

"They say he rides into battle on the back of a giant direwolf. They say he can turn into a wolf himself when he wants, Arya smiled without realizing it. "They say he can't be killed."

Tywin smiled back, to Vyolet's surprise.

"And do you believe them?" He asked her.

"No, my lord," Arya replied, giving him a fierce look. "Anyone can be killed."

Tywin's smile faded. Vyolet covered a smile with her hand.

"Fetch that water."

Arya bowed her head and went to grab the water pitch. As she left the room she heard Tywin asking Vyolet: "Does something amuse you, Vyolet?"

"Of course not, uncle. These are serious matters."

Arya went down to the bridges. Down under a stairs, there were a couple of water barrels. However as she made her way there she was three men in Lannister armor walking to her. She quickly hide behind a pillar as she watched them walked by.

It was Jaqen H'ghar and the other two from the cage. They ddin't see her thought, so Arya sneaked down the stairs.

She reached the water barrel, but the top was covered by a soldier's helmet. Arya stared at it confused.

"A girl says nothing," a voice startled her and as she turned she saw Jaqen leaning on the wall smirking down at her. "A girl keeps her mouth closed. No one hears, and friends may talk in secret, yes?"

* * *

As Vyolet finished dining, her maids took her tray away. A new girl she didn't know had joined her service and was now brushing her head as Vyolet sipped a cup of wine with tarts de massapain. She would usually take tea with the tarts but her current situation demanded wine. Maybe that was why Cersei was always with a cup of wine in her hand, Vyolet thought slightly dizzy. Maybe she would be the same after a while.

The girl brushing her hair finished and started braiding but Vyolet stopped her. And instead the girl started cleaning up the table.

"I do not know your name," Vyolet told her. The girl turned to her, looking as scared as if Vyolet had told her she would flayed her.

"It's Lannia, m'lady."

Vyolet frowned slighly at her scared response and because the girl didn't meet her eye.

"Lannia, do... do they always torture these many people in here?"

The girl almost dropped the plate and shook her head.

"No, m'lady. This time was different."

"How so?"

Lannia hesitated.

"The lords of Harrenhal were looking for a group of criminals, the Brotherhood without Banners."

Vyolet frowned confused. Surely that wasn't reason enough to gather random villagers and started killing and torturing them.

"What does this group does that enraged them so much?" Vyolet asked.

Lannia hesitated again and Vyolet noticed.

"They attacked the lords of Harrenhal, m'lady, and ser Clegane."

"They attacked them? What for?"

Lannia stood frozen, her eyes down at the ground as she expected Vyolet to jump and started hitting her. With the horror that she had seen these past days she wasn't surprised she was reacting this way.

"Speak, Lannia," Vyolet asked her gently. "I won't tell anyone, if that's what you fear. I promise."

Lannia raised her eyes, fulled of fear and unspilt tears. Her voice was barely a whisper as she was afraid the walls would hear.

"Ser Clegane started raiding villages around here. These men came to stop him. They help the people when they need them. Well, not the people. They didn't help the lords but the... peasants."

"The peasants are people too," Vyolet said and Lannia nodded. Vyolet's word calmed her a little.

"Does your family lives in the village?" Vyolet asked her.

"They did," Lannia replied, her eyes lowering to the floor again.

"What happened to them?"

"Master Polliver killed them three weeks ago," Lannia's voice broke at the end.

Vyolet was speechless. She didn't know what to say. What could she say anyway?

"I'm so sorry. Here," Vyolet reached for another goblet and the jar of wine but Lannia shook her head.

"I cannot drink wine while working, m'lady."

Vyolet stopped. Lannia picked up the dishes and quickly left the room, leaving Vyolet alone.

The girl just sat there for what seemed hours. She finished the wine in her cup and left it alone. She had had already five cups and was feeling rather tipsy. She thought about Lannia and what she might be feeling. She imagined what would be standing outside, watching your loved ones die in that horrific way, just to wonder when would be your turn? Then she thought about Ellion, and Yoren and Lord Stark. All dead, and for what? Lannisters. That was the common culprit. Joffrey Lannister, Cersei Lannister, Tywin Lannister... It was almost a relief to be the bastard of the Mad King but what that was good for? She was locked in this castle with Tywin of all people... with Lorch...

Her blood was burning in her veins, like fire and as she glared at the wall her goblet suddenly jumped in the air, flying fast and hard towards the wall where it crashed and fell to the floor.

Vyolet sat there too stunned to react, but then she walked to where the cup had landed. She tried to pick it up, but her dizziness brought her to the floor. So Vyolet sat, with her back against her bed, and grabbed the cup. The gold goblet was completely crushed. It looked like a big heavy rock had fallen onto it. The girl stared at it amazed. She had never been able to throw like that. She remembered when she escaped King's Landing. She had thrown a chair at a guard and had barely done something to him. But this was different. This time she had thrown the goblet with real force.

There was a knock on the door and Vyolet gasped startled, letting the goblet drop to the floor. She turned around and met Jaqen's smirking face.

"Jaqen!"

"Everything alright, lovely girl?" He asked her, amused with the strange position. Vyolet blushed quickly fumbling to her feet, stumbling a little.

"Yes, just... You startled me."

"A man is not surprised. A girl is... tipsy."

Vyolet looked at him indignantly.

"I'm not. Just, alright a little. Can you blame me?"

Jaqen watched her amused as she walked to him, swaying slightly to the right.

"A man found this in the North Tower," he told her holding up the book he had giving her a few days back. "He doesn't think it's wise to leave it lying there and thought a girl may want it back."

Vyolet looked at the book surprised and reached for it with delight.

"Yes. Thank you! I'm sorry, I didn't mean it to leave it behind but ser Clegane come fetch me..."

"A man understands."

Jaqen bowed his head.

"They're all safe," Vyolet told him a smile. "My friends. Did you do that?"

"A man didn't have to. They were lucky," Jaqen replied.

"Well, thank you anyway."

Jaqen bowed his head again and turned around to leave but Vyolet stopped him.

"Jaqen, can I ask a favor from you?"

Jaqen looked at her, a soft amused smile on his face.

"A man listens."

"Can you get me... a dagger?"

Confusion overtook Jaqen's usually confident face.

"A dagger? What does a girl want with a dagger?" He asked her, raising an eyebrow.

Vyolet frowned.

"I don't plan on killing anyone, if that's what you're thinking," she said pointing a finger at him. "I just want to practice."

"Practice?" His amusement came back.

Vyolet shrugged, ignored his tone.

"I was captured too easily. I'm losing practice. I won't let it happen again. And Tywin won't let me use a sword. They don't even let me keep the meat knife for a long time."

Jaqen stared at Vyolet until the girl blushed and looked away uncomfortable. Damn the wine. She felt the room spinning. Jaqen placed a hand beneath her chin and raised her face to him.

"If a man gets you the dagger, they can't find it, lovely girl," he warned her.

Vyolet nodded firmly.

"I know that. That's what I asked you for a dagger instead of a sword."

"Does a girl know how to use a sword?"

Vyolet frowned at his tone. She had threatened him with one not so long ago, didn't she?

"I do. I was taught since I was a girl, by a Braavosi sword master."

"Then a girl must be good."

"I am."

"But does a girl realizes sword fighting is different than using a dagger?"

Vyolet gave him a look, hearing his condescending tone.

"It can't be that different. You have less range but that can be managed. Well?

Jaqen's smile widened.

"Very well. A man would get you your dagger."

"Thank you."

"Good night, lovely girl."

"Good night, Jaqen."

"Lovely girl," Jaqen called her when he was about to leave.

"Yes?"

"Place one of your legs touching the floor when you go to sleep," he gave her a smirk, amused. "It would help with your... dizziness."

"Shut up and get out."

* * *

Next day wasn't as bad as Vyolet thought. Her head just pounded for an hour but her stomach was well. Vyolet had a heartily breakfast before going to look for Arya. Neither she or Arya had stayed until the end of Tywin's meeting.

She didn't found her in the kitchens. Hot Pie told her she was down in the armory with Gendry. She went there not as happy as before. She hadn't forgotten Gendry's words.

Vyolet found them together. Arya seemed like she hadn't had a bath just yesterday and was eating an apple. Gendry was next to her, finishing a sword, shirtless. They both looked up when she approached.

"Good morning. Arya, Gendry."

Gendry looked at her and she held his stare coldly. Arya stop mid chew, watching them, curious.

"Are you still mad at me?" Vyolet asked Gendry. Gendry's face was black with soot but the tips of his ears turned red.

"No, I just..."

Gendry looked at Arya who frowned confused and then turned to Vyolet sighing.

"I'm sorry. I know you're not responsible for any of this. I know how you suffered when Ellion died. I shouldn't have talk to you like that."

"No, you shouldn't have," Vyolet responded.

Gendry looked down, ashamed.

"I forgive you," Vyolet said then. "If you forgive me for not being able to help you when you need it."

Gendry looked up and shook his head.

"You couldn't have done anything. It wasn't your fault."

Vyolet nodded and smiled softly.

"We're good then."

Gendry nodded.

"Yes, we're good," Gendry smiled back.

"By the way, I'm Vyolet, not Lyna," the girl told Gendry as he pulled the sword he was forging from the fire. Gendry turned to her.

"That's real pretty," he said putting down the red hot sword down in the buckt of water but barely missing his leg.

Vyolet smiled happily, blushing lightly. Arya rolled her eyes and shook her head.

Gendry pulled the sword out of the water, examining the blade and swung around. Vyolet could help staring. Arya did too but for different reasons.

"You should stand sideface, she told Gendry.

Gendry turned to her, confused.

"Sideface?"

"Sideways," Arya clarified with her mouth full of apple.

"Why?" Gendry asked.

"Smaller target," Arya replied matter-of-factly.

Gendry gave her a look.

"Am I fighting someone?" Gendry asked Arya.

"You're practicing for a fight," Arya said, biting her apple again. "You should practice right."

Gendry turned to Vyolet who was holding back a laugh. She raised her hands up in the air.

"Hey, you should listen to her. She's the expert here."

Arya smiled at her and Vyolet couldn't resist messing the girl's hair. An action she thoroughly regretted. It was filthy.

"How on earth did you manage to get your hair like this?" Vyolet asked Arya. "You have a bath yesterday."

Arya buffed.

"Your worse than my mother."

A Gendry's smart remark was cut by a loud thud followed by horrified screams.

They looked at each other before running to where the noise came from. Vyolet's startled maids quickly followed their mistress.

A man lied in the middle of the courtyard, by guards surrounding him. Women were stepping away and boys approached curious.

"Guards!"

"Did you see anything?"

As Vyolet, Arya and Gendry approached they saw it was the Tickler. His body was facing the ground but his face the sky. He was dead, his neck horribly twisted.

Arya looked up at the bridges. Through the arches several guards were leaning over, discussing how the Tickler had fallen. On a far corner was Jaqen, however, looking over the mess down.

Vyolet looked at Arya and then followed her vision line, noticing Jaqen as well. The man was leisurily leaning against the wall, eating an apple. He then raised a finger to his eye, a sign just for Arya. Vyolet understood then this hadn't been an accident.

As that fact sink in, the hope in her chest shone bright. Maybe Jaqen could help them out after all.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The Lion's Roar

...

Vyolet was having her midday meal when there was a knock on the door. She wiped her mouth and hands on her napkin before answering.

"Enter."

Jaqen opened the door with a smirk. He always knew when to come when she was alone. It disturbed the girl a little he knew that with so much precision.

Vyolet raised from her chair.

"Lovely girl. A man is glad you're not tipsy anymore," Jaqen said sarcastically with a smile.

"Well it is still early, just give me a little time," Vyolet replied teasingly, grabbing the cup of wine she had in the table and raising as toasting with him, before downing its content.

When she looked down, she wasn't sure if it was her imagination, but she thought his eyes lost the amusement in them.

"How many cups has a girl had?" Jaqen asked her.

Vyolet put the cup down, confused.

"What?"

"How much wine has a girl consumed?"

"Four cups. Are you my new Septa?" She asked him sarcastically.

Jaqen smirked but it seemed more bitter than his usual one.

"A man won't give the dagger to a girl if she keeps drinking."

Vyolet frowned.

"What? Why? You promised!" She protested indignantly.

"A dagger is a dangerous thing to hold when one is intoxicated," Jaqen replied. It was not her imagination this time, she clearly heard the coldness in his voice.

Vyolet crossed her arms and watched him stubbornly.

"Men out there drink and yield swords all the time!"

"Yes, and they die all the time," Jaqen replied.

"You have a sword and you drink! I've seen you out there having a merry time with the soldiers!"

"A man is flattered a girl is so attentive of him."

"That's not what I meant," Vyolet snapped. Jaqen's mix of coldness and teasing was getting on her nerves.

"A man drinks but he's not intoxicated," Jaqen explained. "A girl drinks only with that purpose. She should not. She's too smart for that. If a moment comes when she has to act quickly and fight, she would die like a fool with wine on her breath."

Vyolet stared at his somber eyes, his meaning finally downing on her. He was right, she reluctantly admitted. If she couldn't see straight, she would fight straight either. Also, she had to admit she had been drinking more than usual. More than she knew she could handle. But when she didn't her mind thought about Ellion and her mother. About her real father and her real siblings on the other side of the sea.

Vyolet sighed, looking away.

"I won't drink anymore. I promise."

Jaqen nodded, his smirk returning.

"Then a man would give you this."

Jaqen pulled a long dagger out of his belt. She imagined he would get her an old cheap one but the dagger was beautiful. It was silver and the handle was adorned with blue stones she suspected were real sapphires. Vyolet looked up at the Lorathi and smiled.

"Thank you, Jaqen."

"Does a girl really know how to use it?" Jaqen asked, raising an eyebrow.

Vyolet shrugged turning the weapon on her hands.

"I've seen people use it."

"Would a girl like to learn?"

Vyolet looked up surprised.

"Can you teach me?"

Jaqen bowed his head.

"If a girl wishes to."

Vyolet smiled at the dagger in her hand and her smile faded lightly.

"There's no way you can do it though. Haven't you see I'm guarded day and night? And when I'm not, my maids are close."

Jaqen's only answer was a smirk.

"I can slip past them, lovely girl. I'll see you tonight."

And then he walked to her window. Vyolet blinked and the man had disappeared without a trace.

* * *

Tywin now invited Vyolet to all his meetings. She didn't see the point since she wasn't offering anything, but she suspected it was a way to show they had a good relationship despite his bannermen hitting her and imprison her without food.

Vyolet always tried to arrive almost late so they were never alone, but this time she wasn't lucky. Tywin was the only one in the room and he was angrier than usual. Vyolet even considered turning around and leaving.

"Good, you're early," Tywin told her, pulling out a chair next to his. She usually sat the farthest from her uncle. Vyolet sat and observe Tywin, staring at the fire in the hearth. There were a few moments of silence.

"Jamie wrote to me about you, Vyolet," Tywin said. Vyolet looked up, tensed. "About what my daughter had discovered. He said you're immune to the fire. Is that true?"

He turned to see her shock face and nodded.

"Yes, it's all over you. Did you know that's a true Targaryen quality? More than the silver hair."

Tywin turned around and walked to her. He reached and picked one of her braids examining it.

"When you were little, your mother used to buy large quantities of dark dye. I always thought it was for her, she was a vain woman, but maybe it was for you, to cover the silver hair."

Vyolet looked up, her eyes firm and hard.

"I do not dye my hair. My maids scrubbed it thoroughly and no dye came out of it. You can ask them," Vyolet assured him.

"What a shame," Tywin replied, letting go of her braid. "But maybe we can dye it silver."

"People hated the Mad King," Vyolet said, shaking her head. "Why are you so sure they won't try to kill me once you reveal I am his bastard?"

Tywin stared at her. He couldn't answer since the council entered the room then and the matter was quickly forgotten. But something told Vyolet, Tywin hadn't forgotten it. He was too smart for that, and Vyolet would be stupid if she thought the matter was dismissed.

However, she was sure, during the meeting at least those thoughts had fled his mind. Ser Lorch had made a terrible mistake and Tywin was furious.

"Can you read?" Tywin asked Lorch holding a letter in his hand. The council exchange a nervous look. Vyolet suppressed a smile.

"My lord?"

"Can you read?" Tywin insisted. "This letter detailing our infantry movements was meant for Lord Damon of House Marbrand. It was sent to Lord Marlyn of House Dormand."

Lorch tried to look calm.

"My apologies, my lord. I must have-"

"Girl, fetch me the History of the Greater and the Lesser Houses," Tywin interrupted Lorch pointing at a bunch of big old books piling on a table. "It's the one on this..."

But he didn't need to say more. Arya red the title and quickly handed it to Tywin, who glared at Lorch and couldn't help laughing.

"My cupbearer can read better than you," Tywin snapped at opened the book finding the section of House Dormand and placed it in front of Lorch. Then laid the letter next to it.

"To whom does House Dormand owe allegiance?" Tywin asked him.

"My lord, I..."

"To the Starks of Winterfell!" Tywin roared. "Who have 20,000 men and my son!"

Tywin glared at him, taking the letter and closing the book with a thud.

"I judged you might be good for something more than brutalizing peasants and my niece! I see I overestimated you. If you ever put my son's life at risk again, I'll... Leave us."

Tywin nodded at the door. Lorch, like a dog with its leg between its legs, stood up and left the room quickly. The rest of the council quickly followed them. Vyolet, looking down at her hands, trying so hard to not laugh, bowed at Tywin before leaving as well.

Tywin glared at the amused her until she left.

"Put the book away, girl," he ordered Arya. "Maybe you should devise our next battle plan while you're about it."

Arya couldn't help smiling as she turned around, carrying the book to its place.

There was a knock on the door. And a guard announced:

"Lord Petyr Baelish."

Arya stopped smiling, her heart falling to her knees.

* * *

When Vyolet returned to her rooms, she found Tryta, Lannia and the other two waiting for her.

"I feel rather tired," Vyolet told them. "Why don't you go and eat something yourselves?"

The four ladies bowed.

"Mi lady, calls us if you need anything," Trysta said before leaving the room with the other girls.

Vyolet waited until they were gone and the door was closed before retrieving the goblet she had crushed flat. Then she opened her wardrobe door wide and made a mark with the rouge she had asked her maids to get. Then she walked to the other side of the room.

Vyolet let the goblet in the palm of her hand and stared at it concentrating. The goblet flew from her palm in the air spinning around. Vyolet focused even harder for the goblet to flew still. The last thing she needed was hitting herself by accident. And if she could do this with a non-sharp object, she would never be able to do it with the dagger.

Once the goblet lied still a few inches above her hand pointing at the wardrobe door, she closed her fist and the goblet flew across the room. It didn't even hit the wardrobe door but a few feet higher. It crashed against the wall and fell to the floor with a clank.

Vyolet looked at the door but no one came nor knocked on the door. The girl smiled. She didn't know how much time she had, but she would make good use of it.

The girl turned to the cup lying on the floor and raised a hand towards it. She summoned it to her hand carefully. Slowly, the cup moved along the stone floor towards Vyolet, as she was pulling an invisible thread on it. When it reached her foot, Vyolet bent her fingers and the cup jumped to her hand. The girl caught it with a smile. There we go, she thought.

Then lied the goblet on the flat of her hand and aimed again. The goblet flew and this time hit the wardrobe's door, just a few inches above the mark.

Vyolet practiced over and over until she hit the mark on the wardrobe more than once. She now also could draw the goblet to her hand from the floor with a quick fluid movement. She had just hit the wardrobe's mark for the fourth time and was thinking of using the dagger when a knock on the door interrupted her.

Vyolet quickly left the cup on the wardrobe and closed its door. Then went to her bed, wrinkling the blanket on it as if she had been sleeping on it.

"Enter," she then called.

A boy entered her room, making a bow.

"Mi lady, Lord Tywin is asking for your presence."

* * *

Arya was clearing the table when a message to Tywin concerning Robb caught her eye. Arya just glanced at it when Tywin's voice startled her:

"Who taught you to read?"

Arya froze and raised her head. Tywin didn't seem to notice. He walked around her, to the other side of the table and picked some documents from his meetings.

"My father, my lord," Arya replied.

"Hmm. I taught my son Jaime to read," Tywin told Arya, looking at her. "The maester came to me one day, told me he wasn't learning. He couldn't make sense of the letters. He reversed them in his head. The maester said he'd heard tell of this affliction and that we simply must accept it. Ha! After that, I sat Jaime down for four hours every day until he learned. He hated me for it, for a time. For a long time. But he learned."

Arya bobbed her head, not sure if she should say something, so she just placed the empty cups and bowls on her tray.

Tywin put the documents down.

"Where is your father?" He asked Arya. "Is he alive?"

Arya felt a knot on her throat and she quickly shook her head.

"Who was he?"

"A stonemason," Arya replied, slowly looking up to him.

"A stonemason who could read? Hmm," Tywin said, a bit skeptic.

"He taught himself," Arya replied.

Tywin nodded.

"Quite a man. What killed him?"

"Loyalty," Arya replied.

Tywin held Arya's stare and smirked lightly.

"You're a sharp little thing, aren't you?" He replied. "Probably why my niece likes you so much."

Tywing turned around but Arya said: "Did... Forgive me, my lord. I shouldn't ask questions."

Arya hurried to pick up the rest of the cups and placed them on the tray.

"No. But you've already begun," Tywin replied, frowning intrigued by the girl.

"Did you know your father, my lord?" Arya asked.

Tywin nodded.

"I did. I grew up with him. I watched him grow old."

Tywin turned around and walked to the chair in front of the small dying fire. He sat down with a small smile on his face.

"He loved us. He was a good man, but a weak man." Tywin's smile faded away. And behind him, without him knowing, Arya grabbed the letter from the table carefully but quickly and rolled it, behind her back. Then tucked it inside her shirt.

"A weak man who nearly destroyed our house and name."

Tywin turned around to look at Arya. His eyes had grown gloomy.

"I'm cold," he said.

"I'll fetch more wood for the fire, my lord," Arya quickly replied.

Tywin nodded his head and looked at the fire again.

As Arya went to the door, this opened and Vyolet stepped in. She flashed a little smile at Arya, as the little girl slipped past through her.

"Uncle."

"Come in, Vyolet," Tywin said, gesturing at the chair next to him. "I warn you I have a headache. I have no time for your smart remarks."

* * *

Arya went out to the corridor that had crumbled from the middle and the roof, hundreds of years ago by Aegon's that whole in the corridor she could see the courtyard and the East gate. She sat there, unrolled Tywin's letter and read it.

 _"Marching ten thousand west to Lannisport through the tooth. Estimate to reach you by week's end. Scouts report Robb Stark moving troops south by coast. Alert Serret's men. Turn east at Silverhill."_

Arya had no idea to whom this letter was for but she knew she needed to send it to Robb. Arya rolled the letter and ran quickly down the stairs, looking around, making sure no one was paying attention to her. Unfortunately, on one of those turns, she ran right into Armory Lorch.

The girl stepped back, looking up startled.

"Where are you going, girl?" Ser Lorch demanded, staring down at her and blocking her path.

Arya quickly down, remembering her facade as a servant girl.

"The armory, my lord," she replied, innocently.

"Why?"

"Lord Tywin sent me."

Lorch looked her up and down, noticing the roll of paper clutched in her hand. He reached down and snatched it from her hand.

"What might this be?" He asked.

"Lord Tywin gave it to me," said Arya quickly.

"What for?" Lorch asked, unrolling the paper.

Arya's stomach churned. She knew Lorch couldn't read, because of his terrible mistake earlier, but she didn't know if he could catch some of the words.

"To take to the armory," Arya said, not being able to change her lie without looking more suspicious.

"Why would he do that?" Lorch asked, looking down at Arya who looked up. He reached for her arm. "Let's go and ask him."

Arya was faster. She snatched her arm before he could close his hand and swiftly ran away. Lorch followed her but the crowd of people and soldiers in the courtyard made it impossible for him to catch up.

Arya quickly hid behind a pillar and when she saw Lorch running back she knew she had lost him. But she also knew he was going directly to Tywin. She had to do something quick. There was only one person who could help her now.

Once Arya made sure Lorch was gone, she ran the other way, looking around. She saw a tall soldier with long red hair and ran to him grabbing his arm. The soldier turned around, looking down at her with distaste and Arya let go of his arm.

Arya ran down the corridor until she spotted another red-headed man. She grabbed his arm.

The man turned around, looking down and a smirk appearing on his face. It was Jaqen.

"Amory Lorch," Arya blurted out.

"A girl has named a second name," Jaqen replied bowing his head lightly. "A man will do what must be done."

"Now!" Arya yelled.

Jaqen gave the little girl a look. A mix of amusement and indignation.

"A girl cannot tell a man when exactly he must do a thing," Jaqen replied. "A man cannot make a thing happen before its time."

"But he's going to tell Tywin. He's getting away. It has to be now!"

Jaqen gave Arya a look before sighing and walking away quickly.

* * *

Vyolet sat next to her uncle, her eyes drown to the flames in the fireplace. The orange light hit her skin, warming. The sensation calmed her somehow. She found solace in the heat.

"What do you want to talk about, uncle?" Vyolet asked Tywin as casually as she was talking to one of her maids.

Tywin gave her an annoyed look.

"Lord Baelish came to pay me a visit," he replied. "Apparently the Tyrells have retreated to High Garden and wants to support our case against Stannis."

Vyolet turned to him, frowning slightly. She understood they backed up Renly's claim. Especially ser Loras.

"Why would they do that?"

"Renly Baratheon is death. Loras Tyrell blames Stannis for it," said Tywin.

"So you have now a powerful ally," Vyolet told him, smiling softly. But it wasn't a real smile. Or a happy one. It was more a grimace. "The Tyrells are very rich."

"They are. They will help us with Stannis but there's still the problem of Robb Stark."

"Oh yes, Lorch sent your intelligence report to the Starks by accident," Vyolet replied sarcastically, not being able to hold back a smirk, but she quickly pursed her lips hiding it. "I mean, such a shame."

"It is no joking thing," Tywin scolded her. "They have my son. I thought you liked Jamie."

Vyolet's smirk faded and her eyes turned cold.

"I thought he liked me. Life is full of disappointments, uncle. You should have to know that by now."

Tywin gave her an irritated and angry look. Vyolet threw her hands in the air.

"What do you want me to do about Robb Stark?" Vyolet replied, sighing. "I do not know Robb Stark and I doubt he wants to meet me under these circumstances. You're confusing me with the wrong hostage. Sansa is the one you need for this mess."

"They won't trade Sansa for Jamie," Tywin told her. "Even if she's Robb's sister. He won't risk losing the war just for a girl."

Vyolet shook her head.

"Why didn't you mention Arya?" Tywin asked her then. Vyolet's heart dropped to her knees. She turned to him, trying to master her face and looked surprised.

"What?"

"Arya," Tywin replied looking at her like a lion who had smelled blood. "That's the name of the small Stark girl, isn't it? Lord Baelish said you spent quite a time with both sisters in King's Landing."

"Lord Baelish should start minding his own business," Vyolet replied gave her an angry look and the girl sighed. "Yes, I talked to them and to many ladies and lords. It's called socializing."

"Yes, but Cersei asked you to spy on them."

Vyolet tried to look irritated instead of terrified.

"She did," she replied sighing. "What?"

"You know Arya Stark is not in King's Landing, do you?"

This time Vyolet wasn't sure how much of her fear was reflected on her face. And Tywin looked at her with a knowing glare. Vyolet would have to come up with a good and quick story.

But then the door opened with a thud.

Both Tywin and Vyolet stood up startled and saw ser Lorch standing there. He opened his mouth to speak but instead dropped to the floor.

Vyolet couldn't help but scream as Tywin yelled for his guards.

A small blue dart with purple feathers was stuck on ser Lorch's neck. And something in that extravagant dart reminded Vyolet of the extravagant dagger hidden on her mattress.

* * *

Vyolet ate her dinner but dismissed her handmaids soon after, arguing she would change into her nightclothes herself. Her handmaids certainly looked surprised but obeyed her. Clearly, ser Clegane brutal methods against the farmers had made them not questioning anything coming from a Lannister.

Once the girls left, Vyolet tied her hair with a ribbon. As she inspected the result on her mirror a slight movement caught her attention and her heart almost pops out when she noticed a man, standing behind her.

"Seven Gods, Jaqen!" The girl swore, turning around and placing a hand on her racing heart.

Jaqen just smirked amusedly.

"Good night, lovely girl. There are more guards outside your door."

"Well, I have to thank you for that," Vyolet replied sourly. "You killed ser Lorch."

Jaqen raised an eyebrow.

"Did a man?"

Vyolet crossed her arms tightly across her chest and glared at him.

"I saw the dart Jaqen. And Tywin said it was Wolfsbane. A rare poison. I know it was you."

"A girl knows of wolfsbane?" Jaqen asked, his smirk growing. "Very impressive."

Vyolet's only answer was a glare. This didn't bother Jaqen who crossed the room and sat on her bed comfortably.

"A girl is mad with a man. Why? I thought she would be happy to know ser Lorch is dead. That man abused you."

"That's why I wanted to kill him myself," Vyolet informed him.

"A man apologizes." Jaqen bowed his head.

"Why did you kill him?" Vyolet asked him. "And the Tickler? I know that was you too."

"A girl named them," Jaqen responded.

"A girl?" Vyolet frowned confused.

"Arya Stark."

Vyolet opened her mouth surprised and her mind rushed for an excuse. Jaqen smirked, as he had just read her mind and interrupted her.

"A man knows who the little girl is. No need to lie, lovely girl. I didn't spoil your secret a long time ago. I won't do it again."

Vyolet nodded and gave him a look.

"What do you mean by she named them?"

"Arya Stark took three lives from the Red God. A man is giving them back."

"And you're letting her choose who to kill?"

Jaqen bobbed his head.

"What about me?" Vyolet asked him raising an eyebrow. "I saved you too."

"By killing another man, and I'm already helping you, greedy girl."

Vyolet shrugged, not bothered. Jaqen's smirk grew and looked at the girl with what she thought was fondness.

"Let's begin," he said, standing up. Vyolet then noticed he was just wearing the black doublet.

"What about your armor?" She asked.

"An armor makes noise, lovely girl," Jaqen replied raising an eyebrow. "Don't you think the five men on the other side of your door would suspect if they suddenly hear metallic sounds coming from your room at this late hour?"

Vyolet nodded. He had a point.

"Where's the dagger?" He asked her.

"Here," Vyolet said, stuffing a hand on a hidden hole on her mattress and pulling out the dagger. She stood up and faced Jaqen. The man walked to her and moved her hand to the right position.

"Hold it like this. You'll be able to move it with more force."

Jaqen taught her how to properly grabbed the dagger and some basic attacks and defense moves. He looked pleased when they finished the training.

"A girl is strong."

Vyolet looked up at him, breathless and a bit sweaty and raised an eyebrow.

"That surprise tone over and over. What must I do to impress you, Jaqen?"

Jaqen smirked.

"A lovely girl has impressed a man already."

Vyolet couldn't help but smile as she sat down on her bed, taking deep breaths. It was the corset's fault. She felt like it was a strong hand, cutting her air intake.

"Is a girl alright?" Jaqen asked her and passed her a cup filled with water from one of the tables on the room. Vyolet took it gratefully.

"It's just the stupid corset," Vyolet grunted pulling at it.

Jaqen picked up the dagger she had left on the table and flipped it on his hand.

"A man could take care of that easily."

Vyolet just gave him a stern look but his smirk was firmly in place.

"How could you even managed to kill Lorch?" Vyolet asked him, changing the topic. "You realized it happened just outside Tywin Lannister's door."

"When death is certain, it's not harder than taking a new name," Jaqen replied, crossing his arms and leaned against the window in front of Vyolet.

"You never give a straight answer, do you?" Vyolet raised an eyebrow.

Jaqen just kept smiling.

"What are you, Jaqen H'agar?" Vyolet said shaking her head. "Is that even your real name?"

Jaqen stood up and placed the dagger softly on the bed, his eyes staring into Vyolet's.

"A girl is smart. A girl is learning to see."

Vyolet frowned, confused.

"To see?"

Jaqen didn't respond. He just smiled and then pulled a red apple from his pocket. He handed to Vyolet. The girl smiled back and took it, looking up at the strange Lorathi.

"Good night, lovely girl," said the man climbing out the window, disappearing into the night.

"Good night, Jaqen."

* * *

Vyolet woke up to the unmistakable sound of screams. And not any kind of screams. But the ones caused by pure agony, and this time wasn't a nightmare. Vyolet passed around her room with her heart racing and her mind going crazy. Were they torturing farmers again? Were Arya, Gendry and Hot Pie took again to be tortured? What was going on?

As soon as her maid entered the room, Vyolet approached her.

"Trysta..."

"Yes, m'lady?" The girl replied, taken aback by her mistress expression.

"Those screams, are they torturing farmers again?"

"No, m'lady. They're interrogating soldiers after the attempt on Lord Tywin and yourself."

"Soldiers?"

Trysta quickly nodded.

"Yes, m'lady."

Vyolet couldn't help but think now about Jaqen. Have they found out about him? Have they taken him prisoner and killed him like those men? Would she found his head mounted over the wall when she walked out onto the courtyard? Vyolet was sure she would faint if she did see that. Although, she couldn't dismiss his strange abilities. Maybe she was worrying about nothing but still, the feeling wouldn't let her alone.

Vyolet barely ate nothing, her stomach turning with worry. Her hair was being styled when a knock on the door sounded and a boy entered, making a bow.

"M'lady. Lord Tywin is requesting your presence as soon as possible."

Vyolet nodded, cursing on the inside, and told the boy, she would be right there.

"Uncle. It's nice to wake up in the morning at the sound of men dying painfully."

"You should keep your quips to yourself, girl," Tywin snapped upset. "I am not in the mood. Now sit."

Vyolet's smirk disappeared and she crossed the room to sit next to Tywin. Arya was setting the table for Tywin to eat, and the Mountain was standing in the middle of the room.

"Do you know anything about this attack?" Tywin asked Vyolet as soon as she sat.

"Shouldn't you take me outside and tie a bucket with a rat to my middle first?"

"Vyolet."

Vyolet repressed her urge to roll her eyes.

"No, I don't. Why should I?"

"You escaped once."

"Yes, and didn't try to kill Cersei first I was preoccupied with the escaping part."

"You spent too much time on the woods, making friends with bandits. Maybe some of them are trying to help you escape."

"That would be a good plan, except for the fact that the men I was friends with were either killed horribly by your men," Vyolet snapped sarcastically. Tywin gave her a cold look.

Vyolet shrugged.

"Besides do you think a bunch of farmers hiding in the woods would get a hold on such a rare poison?"

Tywin gave her another angry look but turned to ser Clegane.

"Despite my niece's insolence, she's right. This is no common assassin."

"We hanged twenty men last night," Clegane replied as if that had settled the matter.

"I don't care if you hanged one hundred," Tywin snapped. "A man tried to kill me. I want his name and I want his head."

"We think it was an infiltrator from the Brotherhood Without Banners."

Tywin turned to Vyolet who raised her hands in the air. Honestly, was he going to blame her for everything?

"Pretentious name for a band of outlaws," Tywin replied. "We can't allow rebels behind our lines to harass us with impunity. We look like fools and they look like heroes. That's how kings fall. I want them dead, everyone."

"Killing them isn't the problem. It's finding them," said the Mountain.

"Have you gone soft, Clegane?" Tywin asked. "I always thought you had a talent for violence. Burn the villages, burn the farms. Let them know what it means to choose the wrong side."

"No! Don't!" Vyolet intervened, standing up.

"Excuse me?"

Tywin turned around, livid.

"You say this is not a common assassin and you want to burn a bunch of farmers?" Vyolet replied.

"They're protecting them."

"If you keep torturing and killing people is not going to stop them from wanting you dead, is it? You're just giving them a stronger reason! Did you see how this monster was torturing them? Gods, I wonder why would anyone want you dead!"

Tywin stood up as well, raising a hand.

Vyolet stepped back quickly, already expecting a blow that didn't come, but Tywin looked like his hand was itching to hit her. However, the man closed his hand slowly into a fist and glared at the girl.

"You're my niece. You're a Lannister," he snapped enraged. "If you weren't you wouldn't be so comfortable questioning my authority, girl. Go, and don't you ever talk to me like that again or you will regret it."

Vyolet quickly left, her body shaking with anger and fear.

Tywin nodded at ser Clegane who quickly left the room after Vyolet. Tywin turned to the window, his blood still boiling at Vyolet's vicious words.

"I imagine if you have talked like that to your father he would have given you a beating," he told Arya who was arranging his meal on the table. Arya looked up startled and forgot to answer.

"Mmm. Is that mutton?"

"Yes, my lord," said Arya.

"Don't like mutton."

Arya stopped placing the flatware.

"I'll bring something else."

"Leave it," Tywin ordered her. "Are you hungry?"

"No."

"Of course you are." Tywin looked the girl over and walked to her. "Eat."

"I'll eat in the kitchen later."

"It's bad manners to refuse a lord's offer," Tywin replied, still upset about his niece. "Sit. Eat."

Arya couldn't refuse at his tone and sat at the table. Tywin grabbed the carving knife and passed it to Arya.

"You're small for your age. I suppose you've been underfed your whole life."

Arya looked up, her mouth already filled with meat.

"I eat a lot. I just don't grow," the girl replied.

Tywin watched her eat for a while before turning around and looking out of the window.

"This will be my last war. Win or lose," he said, more to himself.

"Have you ever lost before?" Arya asked.

Tywin turned with a severe and slightly insulted look on his face.

"Do you think I'd be in my position if I had lost a war?"

Arya shook her head at his piercing gaze. Tywin turned around.

"But this is the one I'll be remembered for. The War of Five Kings, they're calling it."

Arya stared at Tywin, the light making his white hair shine and his skin looked reddish. Arya stared at the back of his neck, tightening her grip on the knife. How hard should she stab him to kill him?

"My legacy will be determined in the coming months. Do you know what legacy means?"

Tywin turned around startling Arya who looked down meekly, hoping he hadn't noticed the murder gleam in her eyes. Arya shook her head at his question.

"It's what you pass down to your children and your children's children," Tywin explained and Arya looked up. "It's what remains of you when you're gone." Tywin made a pause and nodded at the holes in the walls.

"Harren the Black thought this castle would be his legacy," he said walking around the room. And despite Arya's hatred for the man, she couldn't help but be captivated by his words. "The greatest fortress ever built. The tallest towers, the strongest walls. The Great Hall had thirty-five hearths. Thirty-five. Can you imagine? Look at it now. A blasted ruin. Do you know what happened?"

"Dragons?"

"Yes," Tywin replied, impressed. "Dragons happened."

The man crossed the room and poured himself a cup of wine. Then he sat on a chair next to Arya.

"Harrenhal was built to withstand an attack from the land. A million men could have marched on these walls, and a million men would have been repelled. But an attack from the air with dragon fire." The man shook his head, looking around. "Harren and all his sons roasted alive within these walls. Aegon Targaryen changed the rules. That's why every child alive still knows his name. Three hundred years after his death."

Tywin finished his passioned speech with a gulp of wine but Arya spoke:

"Aegon and his sisters," the girl corrected Tywin.

Tywin put his cup down, looking at Arya confused.

"It wasn't just Aegon riding his dragon," Arya replied. "It was Rhaenys and Visenya, too."

"Correct," Tywin replied even more impressed. "A student of history, are you?"

"Rhaenys rode Meraxes. Visenya rode Vhagar," Arya said.

"I'm sure I knew that when I was a boy," Tywin replied, taking another gulp of wine.

"Visenya Targaryen was a great warrior," Arya continued, her eyes shining with excitement. "She had a Valyrian steel sword she called Dark Sister."

"She's a heroine of yours, I take it?" Tywin said, amused. "Aren't most girls more interested in the pretty maidens from the songs? Jonquil with the flowers in her hair?"

"Most girls are idiots."

This actually made Tywin laughed out loud.

"You remind me of my daughter," Tywin told her. "Where did you learn all this stuff about Visenya and her Valyrian steel sword?"

Arya's smiled disappeared.

"From my father," said Arya.

Tywin looked at her slightly surprised.

"He was a well-read stonemason. Can't say I've ever met a literate stonemason."

"Have you met many stonemasons, my lord?" Arya asked him sarcastically.

Tywin stopped mid-sip and put his cup down.

"Careful now, girl," he warned her. "I enjoy you, but be careful. I have enough with Vyolet."

The man nodded at the tray of food.

"Take that back to the kitchen," he said. "Eat what you want."

Arya nodded and rose taking the tray of mutton. She was about to leave when Tywin stopped her.

"And, girl," he called her. Arya stopped and turned to him. "' _M'lord'_. Lowborn girls say ' _m'lord_ ,' not ' _my lord_.' If you're going to pose as a commoner, you should do it properly."

Arya's stomach dropped to her knees but she didn't let it show it. She had learned from Vyolet how to keep a lie even if half discovered.

"My mother served Lady Dustin for many years, my lord," Arya replied firmly. "She taught me how to speak proper-Properly." Arya chose the wrong word on purpose, having notice lowborn children making that mistake often. Sometimes her old Septa corrected Arya about that too.

Tywin just smirked amused, not fooled by the girl.

"You're too smart for your own good. Has anyone told you that?"

Arya couldn't help but smile.

"Yes."

"Go on." Tywin nodded his head and Arya left. Tywin stared at the girl thoughtfully. He remembered the interrupted conversation with Vyolet. He had asked her if she knew Arya Stark was alive and she had hesitated. And he had seen it. Vyolet was obviously very protective of this girl, and despite her cleverness, this ragedd girl was no peasant. He wondered if the small daughter of Eddard Stark had been under his nose all this time. Maybe Vyolet was right, and he was focusing on the wrong hostage.

* * *

 **Thank you guys, for reading, liking and reviewing this story. You're awesome!**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The Vyolet Bow

...

Vyolet was practically shaking as she left her uncle's rooms. She felt anger toward him but more to herself that showed him weakness. Hadn't she learned nothing from growing up in Casterly Rock? She knew better than to show fear to a lion, but she had slipped with Cersei and now with Tywin. Both times resulting in her becoming a prisoner.

She needed to get out. She needed Jaqen... and then she remembered she hadn't seen him. The agonizing screams coming through the halls in the walls reminded Vyolet of the on going torture of the soldiers. As she rushed to the courtyard, she prayed to the gods Jaqen wasn't one of the heads in the spikes.

The girl reached the courtyard and her stomach churned. She had to take a deep breath to avoid throwing up her breakfast which wasn't easy. The courtyard was filled with hanged bodies, still twitching. There was a strong smell of burnt flesh, and the walls had stripes of dried and flesh blood, oozing from the severe heads. The screams of the tortured men wasn't helping to keep herself strong. Vyolet steeled herself as much as possible, and walked around the walls and pens looking firmly at each man. Her heart filling with a bit of relief each time she saw a new face and didn't saw Jaqen in them.

A guard then appeared in front of Vyolet, startling her. Vyolet instinctively reached for the sword she no longer had and her hand closed in the air. However, there was no need for that. The guard looked at her with concern.

"M'lady, this is no place for you. The sight may make you ill."

He didn't know how truth that was, Vyolet thought but played along. She looked up at the guard with a sweet meek look on her face.

"Indeed, I am feeling a little dizzy. Excuse me, ser, I was wondering if you have found a responsible yet? These screams haunt me at night."

Just as she said that she looked around in horror, but she made sure to look at all the corpses and severed heads. Then her eyes felt someone staring, and as she looked beyond the guard, she saw Jaqen, leaning on a wall, his helmet under his arm, smirking at her. He was right after all, Vyolet thought as a wave of relief hit her.

"I apologize m'lady but we hadn't found yet the son of a... the responsible for the attack on your uncle," the guard quickly told her. "I'll try to ask them to keep the screams to a minimum so you can have a bit of peace."

Vyolet smiled sweetly at the man.

"I'll appreciate that very much, ser."

"Do you need me to escort you back?"

"It won't be necessary. I see my maids coming already."

Out of the castle the three girls that had been attending Vyolet were practically running to her. She imagined Tywin had ordered to not let her out of a sight and they wouldn't like to disobey him.

The guard bowed at her and then walked away. Vyolet looked up again, but Jaqen was gone.

* * *

Vyolet was escorted to her rooms by her maids who fussed about her. She asked them for a light supper and then told them she would like to nap, that the sight in the courtyard had been too much for her.

Once alone, Vyolet locked her door and retrieved the smash cup she had been using for practicing with her powers. She had asked Jaqen for the dagger with that purpose, but the longer she trained with him, the longer she didn't want to risk and smash the dagger in the stone wall by accident. However, Vyolet was progressing. She hit now the objective with strength, could retrieve the cup with a flick of her wrist and had even been able to hold the cup in the air for a couple of moments. She was practicing this, when a silhouette caught her eye, and she turned around startled, the cup falling to the ground behind her.

Jaqen was leaning against her window with his stupid smirk.

"How long have you've been there?" Vyolet snapped angrily.

"Long enough, lovely girl," the man replied with annoying calm.

"You shouldn't be here," Vyolet snapped angrily, not knowing what to do.

"A girl has been getting better at hiding things than a man thought," he replied, walking slowly to her. "He never suspected a girl possessed such abilities."

"What do you want, Jaqen? Why are you here?" Vyolet crossed her arms, frowning upset.

"A man came to see if a girl was alright. She looked quite concerned out in the courtyard."

"I was looking for your head." The girl shrugged.

"Ah, so it wasn't concern what a man saw. It was disappointment," the man quipped with a little sly smile and Vyolet couldn't help but smile back.

"A bit of both."

Jaqen laughed. Then he proceeded to sit on Vyolet's bed as casually as this was his room.

"So how long you've been able to move objects, lovely girl?"

Vyolet didn't answer. She just looked at him, with her arms still crossed over her chest. Jaqen rose an eyebrow.

"Don't you trust a man? I thought we were friends."

"We are. Trust however is such a precious commodity these days hard to come by," Vyolet replied with a twinge of sarcasm and bitterness.

"A girl has no reason to doubt a man and she knows it. Or is it fear, maybe, what keeps you from trusting me?"

"I'm not afraid of you," Vyolet replied a bit harder than intended. Jaqen rose an eyebrow and the girl sighed.

"The first time I moved something it was a candle and I was eight," Vyolet finally said. "I didn't know how it was possible, but I suspected... I knew it had been me. After that it just happened. I moved things. Make them fall if I threw a tantrum, but my mother forbid me to use them. She said it would be dangerous for people to know."

Jaqen nodded.

"A wise advise."

"Have you seen this powers before?" Vyolet asked him.

"A man has, but not very often," Jaqen replied, surprising Vyolet. She thought he would say he had never heard of such thing.

"Where?" The girl asked eager.

"In Essos. In Assahai, to be more exact."

"In Assahai?" Said Vyolet even more surprised. "So you think this is... magic?"

"A man is not sure, lovely girl. There's too many types of magic, but he could help you find out."

Vyolet frowned.

"How?"

"After a man helps you escape, he would leave this place behind forever. Come with me to Braavos, lovely girl, and I'll help you find the answers you're looking for."

Vyolet bit her lip in contemplation.

"To Braavos?"

"Think about it," Jaqen told her gently. "Now, what exactly were you doing with that?" The man nodded at the flattened cup.

"Practicing. That's why I asked you for the dagger, but it is so pretty. I didn't want to ruin it."

Jaqen nodded.

"A man is glad to know the dagger is safe on a girl's hand. Why don't you try it with this one?"

Jaqen took the one he had on his belt. It wasn't as pretty or valuable as the one he gave her. This one had just a wood handle, wrapped up on scratched up leather. Vyolet took it and looked up to Jaqen.

"Are you sure?"

"Can a girl aim? Or man needs to fear for his life?"

His annoying smirk snaked its way on his face. Vyolet just glared at him. He would show him.

Vyolet laid the dagger flat on her palm and stared at the mark on the door of her wardrobe. She focused hard, hoping to not embarrassed herself in front of Jaqen of all people.

Then, as if jerked by an invisible hand, the dagger crossed the room fast and swift. With a soft thud, the dagger stabbed firmly the wood door.

Vyolet suppressed the urge to jump and rubbed it on Jaqen's face. She was contented to turn to him with a self satisfied smirk on her face. Jaqen's smirk widened at this.

"Very impressive, lovely girl," he admitted it. "Can you retreat it?"

Vyolet smirked faltered but she didn't give up easily. She just hope she wouldn't cut one of her fingers off. Vyolet raised her hand, without noticing Jaqen taking one of his thick leather gloves to give it to her, and she retrieved the blade.

"Wait...!"

But the dagger was already in Vyolet's hand, all her fingers and hand intact, and she was grasping it tightly by the handle.

Jaqen shook his head, but there was a small smile on his face and his eyes shone actually impressed.

"You may want to put this on, next time, lovely girl," he said passing on her the glove.

"Next time?" Vyolet raised her eyebrow.

"A girl needs to practice, yes? A man can help."

Jaqen nodded at the open wardrobe's door.

"Can a girl hit the door while walking?"

Vyolet frowned.

"I don't know. I haven't tried yet."

Jaqen smiled wider at her.

"Let's find out then, yes?"

She smiled back at him.

Vyolet trained long and hard with Jaqen. He actually helped her to do things she hadn't thought of trying, like aiming while moving, or while being attacked. That was a bit tricky and they had to change to the smash goblet so Vyolet wouldn't cut herself by mistake or stab Jaqen. He finished by helíng her again with her combat skills with the dagger. She was sweaty and breathless when a knock interrupted them. Vyolet turned around and thanked the gods she had locked the door.

"Yes?" Vyolet asked. A girl's voice came behind it.

"M'lady, Lord Tywin is asking for your presence urgently."

"I'll be there in a moment."

Vyolet turned around but Jaqen was gone. The girl sighed relieved but as she hid the daggers and followed the girl to Tywin's room, she wondered for the umpteenth time how he had done it. Vyolet wondered if she join Jaqen back to Braavos would he teach her?

The girl entered the dark room. This decript and gloomy castle looked like a reflection of her insides. All dark and burnt down, falling down slowly with hopelessness. Only those small trainings with Jaqen gave her hope. She wasn't just a prisoner. She was preparing to fight for her freedom.

Tywin was as his usual place when he was alone. On a chair in front of the fire. He didn't bother to look up, just gestured at the chair next to him.

"Sit."

There was something off about him and Vyolet didn't dare to cross him. Not right now at least.

The girl crossed the room and sat next to him.

"You called."

There was a long silence and then Tywin stood up. She didn't know what had happened but she wiped her face of all emotions. She willed herself to have a face as blank as possible so her feelings wouldn't give away any information.

Tywin looked at the fire and then at her.

"We didn't finish our last conversation."

Vyolet looked up.

"You dismissed me if I recall correctly," Vyolet replied. "Not before warning me I should keep my mouth shut."

"Not that conversation. The one it was interrupted by Lorch."

Something cold dropped in Vyolet's stomach but she pushed it away. Sh scrunched her face lightly with horror. As if the thought of Lorch dying so suddenly had marked her with nightmares.

"Well, forgive me if I've forgotten. But a sight as horrible as a murder man is enough to make me forget many things. I'm not as brave as you uncle."

Tywin gave her a look.

"When you tried to escape with Ned Stark you killed four men. And when Lorch capture you in the forest you killed seven. I know his death was not remotely upsetting to you, was it?"

"Oh it was," Vyolet assured him. "I wanted to kill him myself for what he did."

Tywin turned to her and smiled lightly. It was so brief Vyolet thought she had imagined it.

"You should act like the lady you were raised as."

"You asked."

Tywin walked to the table where the goblets and pitchers were.

"Wine or water?" He asked.

"Water, it's fine," Vyolet replied, looking at him suspiciously. He wouldn't try to poison her now, would he?

"I have to dismiss my cupbearer for the time being," Tywin replied, coming back with a goblet in each hand. He handed the one with water to Vyolet. "I couldn't let her hear what we're about to discuss."

"Oh."

Vyolet took the goblet and looked at him as if he were a hissing snake. She was reading herself for the attack.

"The girl, my cupbearer. She seems very attached to you," Tywin replied sitting on his chair and taking a sip of wine. Vyolet didn't like where this was going. She pulled her most innocent and slightly confused face and she shrugged.

"We traveled together for a long time and I cared for her," Vyolet replied and it wasn't a lie. "She's only a child with no one else. It's natural she's attached to me."

Tywin nodded and took a sip of wine before asking.

"Is she Arya Stark?"

Vyolet this time was expecting the question. Still, if she had been drinking the water he gave her, she probably would had spitted it out.

Vyolet forced a smile as if what Tywin had said was the funniest thing she had ever heard.

"Arya?"

"She's a northern girl, clearly high born and very clever. And she traveled with you all the way from King's Landing."

"Arya disappeared the day before Ned Stark's execution," Vyolet replied. "That day I escaped. Besides, she's very different from Arry. She was just like miniature of her sister Sansa. She was tall for her age, and had bright red hair."

Vyolet controlled her face to not give away anything. She hoped Cersei hadn't had time to describe Arya to Tywin.

"A girl like that would be hard to miss," he replied a bit skeptical.

"You didn't see me going and I was wearing one of finest brightest dress. People's mind were just occupied."Vyolet shrugged.

"And this girl..."

"She's the natural daughter of Lord Roxton," Vyolet replied quickly, but lowering her voice as admitting something she shouldn't. "He remarried, and the new Lady Roxton was not keen on her. That woman... ordered to kill Arianne -or Arry as she like to be called-, but I ran into them while escaping. I ordered the man away and took the girl with me, before they could harm her."

Vyolet did better than the great mummers. She lowered her voice in the right moments, she harden her eyes when she said the girl was going to be killed, closed her hands in fists. Tywin didn't say nothing and Vyolet was sure she was convincing him. Now she need to get rid of Arya. With shaky hands, she took a hesitant sip of water.

"Arya was a fierce wild girl," Vyolet said almost in a whisper, her eyes starting to glimmer with tears. "I stopped her several times from doing reckless things, but I couldn't stop her that day. If they hadn't find her yet... I'm afraid they may never found her."

Vyolet hung her head and watched the fire. She thought of her own lose so the pain would reflect on her face naturally. Internally, she was holding her breath, praying to the gods Tywin had believed her.

"The I should tell Cersei to stop looking for the girl," Tywin finally said and Vyolet had to fight a sigh of relief. Vyolet bit her lip and turned to him, nodding softly.

"I wouldn't call the search," Vyolet replied now coldly. "If Robb Stark and his army finds out you only have one of his sister and Arya is..." Vyolet shook her head. "She was just a little girl. What do you think they'll make out of this?"

Tywin briefly nod.

"Better to not give the young wolf more reasons to attack us."

Tywin nodded at the door.

"You may leave now."

Vyolet hesitated, still playing her part. She rose carefully and went to to the table to leave her cup. She made a show of quickly drying her eyes. And then she left the room clenching her jaw tightly. As she went to her rooms, she finally smiled. Arya was safe.

* * *

Tywin saw her leave, still pondering what Vyolet had told her. She had been honest, as far as Tywin could tell. But her niece was a clever girl just as that scrappy child, Arry. She had underestimated one child before and now Robb Stark had Jamie as a prisoner. He wouldn't do that again.

There was another knock on his door.

"Enter."

The door opened and a girl entered. It was Vyolet's handmaid, Lannia. Tywin turned to her and rose an eyebrow.

"Well?"

"I haven't seen Lady Vyolet with no one but those two lads and the girl, m'lord."

"Those two lads?"

Lannia nodded.

"A black haired boy. Tall. He is a smith. And a fat lad. He works in the kitchens."

"Are you sure she haven't talk to anyone else?"

"Just a guard, m'lord. But I don't think they knew each other."

"Which guard?" Tywin asked. He wanted to send Vyolet a clear message. Next time she would cross the patio, she would find the head of said guard on a pike.

* * *

The morning was unusually sunny but the wind blew cold.

Vyolet broke fast with her handmaids like every morning and then went down to the kitchens or the armory. Depending where Arya, Gendry and Hot Pie would be that day. She would made sure they had eaten properly and then she would stay with them for a while until she had to be called for a new meeting. That her least part of the day. Robb Stark had proven to be a worthy adversary and Tywin was just getting angrier with each battle won. Then, after been yelled at for like what seemed hours, Vyolet would retire for the night. She usually had her night meal with her handmaids and then she would dismiss them. She changed into a dress before Jaqen appeared in her room and they would train for hours. She was getting better at combat and now, could throw and object and retrieve it, while moving and fighting. Jaqen's words were also encouraging and he sometime would bring a trinket for her. A whetstone to sharpen her blades with, a red shiny apple, a new book. And then she would go to sleep, her muscles sore and tired, but she would be smiling, thinking that she was getting closer to escape.

That morning however, was different. She should have known since the moment she went down to look for Arya and the others. A new head caught her eye and she recognized the guard that had offered to accompany her to her chambers when he thought her ill. Her stomach dropped and wondered if the man had been killed because he had talked to her or just sheer bad luck.

She was standing there where a servant approached. A council had been called and it was urgent. Vyolet sighed and followed the boy, dreading already, and wondering what had happened. Maybe Robb Stark was getting closer to them.

As soon as she sat one of her uncles showed Tywin an urgent letter from the capital. Apparently the one getting closer was Stannis.

"King's Landing will fall an hour after Stannis lands his force," Lord Staunton declared. "It's not too late for King Joffrey and Cersei and the court to ride west to-"

"Surrender the Iron Throne?" Tywin interrupted him.

"Better than seeing their heads mounted on the city gates," Lord Staunton snapped back. Then turned to Vyolet and bowed his head to her. "Forgive my language, my lady, but this is urgent. Stannis will execute them all."

He turned to Tywin again.

"No, a king who runs will not be king for long," Tywin replied upset. "He's a Lannister. He'll stand and fight."

Lord Staunton looked at lost. Vyolet wasn't worried about anyone at King's Landing, except for Sansa. The girl was so naive and she didn't know what she was in for. The only thing she could hope for is that Stannis would let her live. After all Eddard Stark had supported his claim. Vyolet didn't dare to turn to Arya. She had just convinced Tywin that she was just but an orphan and that the real Arya had died. She didn't want to make him have doubts.

Tywin looked angrier than ever.

"Stannis, two days from the capital and the wolf at my doorstep," he spat.

"The scouts assure us Robb Stark remains north of Ashemark," one man intervened.

"Ha!" Tywin stood up and walked to the fire place. "The last time the scouts assured us of Stark's movement, he lured us into a trap. Which is why my son is his prisoner."

Arya came back with a silver pitcher and poured wine on a man's cup. She and Vyolet exchanged a quick look.

"Too close to Casterly Rock," said Tywin more to himself.

"He sent a splinter force to recapture Winterfell," one of the lords told Tywin. "The Greyjoys have done us a great favor."

"Stark won't risk marching on Casterly Rock until he's at full force," Lord Staunton said.

"He's a boy and he's never lost a battle." Tywin's booming voice interrupted them. His eyes glaring at them. "He'll risk anything at any time because he doesn't know enough to be afraid."

There was a pause and then he walked back to the table.

"We'll ride at nightfall," he told his men. "I want a full night's march before he knows we're on the move." He then turned to the Mountain. "Clegane, you'll maintain a garrison here at Harrenhal. Track down this brotherhood and destroy them. Vyolet will stay here with you for her protection. Same rules apply. I may need for her soon. I'll sent a raven and you'll join my niece to King's Landing."

Tywin gave Vyolet a hard look before turning to the Mountain again.

"She's your responsibility." He nodded at Arya, who stood on the side. "The girl has proven herself a good servant. She'll stay on with you. Vyolet may see for her."

Tywin walked to Arya.

"See that he doesn't get drunk in the evenings," he told the little girl as he sat down at the table again. "He's poor company when he's sober, but he's better at his work."

Vyolet and Arya couldn't look at each other but they felt the same emptiness in their stomach. Vyolet feared for the wellbeing of Arya and her friends. With Tywin out of the picture, the Mountain could do as he pleased and she had seen the results of his sadism. And Arya, she felt fear she wouldn't be able to take Tywin's life. She had one death left and she needed to tell Jaqen before it could be too late.

As soon as Tywin dismissed the room and let Arya go, the little girl ran down to the courtyard looking for the assassin.

She got a little sidetracked watching the fresh hanged corpses but then she saw a bunch of soldiers. Among them, there was the man who had shared Jaqen's cell. Arya didn't know his name, but he was big and much stronger than her, and she had taunting him too many times.

When he saw the little girl he frowned in anger.

"Look, it's Yoren's little cunt," the man said and the rest of the soldiers turned to her. "Used to be a boy, now it's a girl."

"Where's Jaqen?"Arya asked them, feeling her legs wobbling due to the fear.

"Don't care," the big man said taking a gulp of bear and then stood up. "Where's your stick now, bitch? I promised to fuck you with it."

Fortunately their captain intervened.

"Come on, time to kill some wolves!" He told them and all the man including him stood, grabbed their helmets and shields and left.

Arya took a deep breath and then saw Gendry and Hot Pie near some anvils. She ran to them.

"You need sour cherries to make it right," Hot Pie was telling Gendry as the boy was making a horseshoe. The clinks of the mallet against the metal rang around them. "And the secret is you dry the stones, and then you break them with a mallet. That's where the real flavor is. You crush them up real fine. And then when you're finished, you sprinkle them over the piecrust."

"Where's Jaqen?" Arya asked them, breathless.

"How would I know?"Gendry replied distracted.

"I need him now!" Arya told him. "Lord Tywin's marching tonight."

Gendry turned to her confused.

"You need him?"

"He's helping me," Arya replied vaguely.

"I saw him," said Hot Pie munching on a piece of bread.

Both Arya and Gendry turned to him.

"Where?" Arya asked him. The boy just shrugged.

Arya walked to him and pinched his ears.

"Ow!"

"Where? Where?"

"They went riding out the gates a few hours ago," Hot Pie replied quickly. "On patrol. Let go of my ears."

A horse whine dragged Arya's attention away and she saw Tywin and his men, reading to leave. Vyolet was at his side and she had a sour angry face.

"What do you want with him anyway?" Hot Pie told Arya.

Vyolet meanwhile had been chastised by her uncle, since Arya left his rooms.

"Clegane may not have the authority to punish you, but any insolence and he will kill your friends," he told her as his servant readied his horse.

Vyolet crossed her arms tightly.

"You plan on killing your cupbearer?" She asked him sarcastically.

Tywin turned to her and gave her an angry look.

"No. As I said that girl is your responsibility. I was referring to the smith and the fat kitchen boy."

Vyolet's heart dropped. Tywin nodded and when she turned she saw Arya with Gendry and Hot Pie looking at them.

"You think I don't know what happens on my household?" Tywin asked sarcastically.

Vyolet turned to him furiously.

"They're just boys!" she snapped. "They haven't done anything wrong."

"No, they haven't," Tywin replied. "And for what I've heard they're very efficient at their work, so it would be a shame for Clegane to kill them. And knowing Clegane... It won't be a pleasant or quick death. I trust you'll behave then. I'll see you hopefully in two fortnights."

Vyolet glared at him and didn't bother to bow. Manners be damned the girl thought as she stormed back to her rooms.

Tywin glared at the insolent girl and then motioned ser Clegane. The Mountain approached.

"Clegane."

"M'lord."

"The girl, the cupbearer." He nodded to Arya who was now talking o the other two boys. "No one touches her, do you hear me? In any way. Something happens to her and it will be on you. But don't let Vyolet know. Let her think you're treating her just like a servant."

Clegane looked at Tywin confused but bowed his head.

"Yes, m'lord."

"And when you come back with my niece, Clegane, bring her two. Don't let them escape."

With a last glare, Tywin mounted his horse and he and his men left Harrenhal as the sun set.

Arya watched him go, feeling a pit on her stomach. It was too late.

* * *

Vyolet reached her rooms as a bull entering the arena. She was furious. How Tywin dared threaten two defenseless boys?

"You may go," Vyolet told her maids. "I feel rather tired and want to rest."

The three maids instead of leaving as always exchanged a look.

"M'lady, your uncle ordered us to always be with you."

Vyolet's heart dropped to her knees. She put on a confused look.

"But I'm only going to sleep."

"I'm sorry, m'lady. He ordered that at least one of us stayed with you at all time. Or there would be consequences."

The terrified look on their faces made Vyolet even angrier. Tywin wouldn't dare to hurt her, but the Mountain wouldn't blink twice on killing any of his maids. The message was clear. Step out of line and their blood would be in your hands.

* * *

Arya was crossing the courtyard bringing water when a soldier hit her and she spilled the buckets she was carrying.

"Mind where you're going," the solider told her, smacking her in the head. Arya sighed and knelt reaching for the buckets.

A soldier stepped to her and she thought it was the one who had hit her, but it wasn't.

"I'm sorry. I'll..." Arya looked up and her face turned quickly onto an angry one. "Where were you?" She asked Jaqen, standing up.

"A man has patrol duty." He shrugged, smirking.

"Tywin Lannister was right here, and now he's gone."

"A girl owes one more name. The Red God demands it. Give the man a name."

Arya bit her lip, thinking.

"How long after I give you the name does it take you to kill someone?" She asked him.

"A minute, an hour, a month," Jaqen replied walking around Arya. "Death is certain, the time is not."

He dropped his helmet on the ground and sat on a barrel. Some men had left cups and a jar full of ale. Jaqen picked a cup and made sure it was clean before filling it.

"He's taking his army to attack my brother," Arya told him. "I need him dead right now."

"This a man cannot do," Jaqen replied, taking a sip of the ale.

"You promised you'd help me," Arya said upset.

"Help was not promised, lovely girl," Jaqen replied leaning on the wall behind him. "Only death."

And he was glad he had only promised those three lives to Arya. He had his hands full with Vyolet's requests.

"There must be others," he told Arya. "Give a name, any name."

"And you'll kill them? Anybody?"

Jaqen took another gulp and bowed his head.

"By the Seven New Gods and the Old Gods beyond counting, I swear it."

"All right," Arya replied and stepped closer to him. Jaqen put down his cup and leaned to her. Arya whispered softly:

"Jaqen H'ghar."

Jaqen looked up to the girl, smirking now down at him. He gave her a sour look.

"A girl gives a man his own name?"

Arya's smirk widened.

"That's right."

"Gods are not mocked," Jaqen said upset. "This is no joking thing."

"I'm not joking," Arya replied firmly. "A man can go kill himself."

"Un-name me." Jaqen glared at the little girl.

"No."

"Please?"

Arya looked him up and down and nodded softly.

"I'll un-name you."

Jaqen cocked his head, and leaned back on the wall.

"Thank you."

"If you help me and my friends escape," Arya added quickly.

Jaqen smirked at the nerve of the girl, but annoyed nonetheless.

"This would require more than one life. This is not part of our bargain."

"Fine," Arya said quickly. "Jaqen H'ghar."

Jaqen glared at the little girl.

"A girl lacks honor."

Arya shrugged, nonchalantly. Jaqen looked at the girl upset and exasperatedly. Then he stood up, and looked down at the girl but she didn't back down. She was as stubborn as Vyolet, her thought. Maybe she's the one who had taught her.

"If I do this thing," Jaqen said, "a girl must obey."

"A girl will obey," Arya replied firmly, imitating Jaqen.

The man stared at Arya before saying.

"A girl and her friends will walk through the gate at midnight."

Then he walked away.

"Vyolet too," Arya said after him.

Jaqen stopped and turned to Arya.

"Do not worry about a girl. You and your friends keep walking once you leave. She'll find you."

* * *

Arya, Gendry and Hot Pie were huddle together behind a couple of barrels and mountains of hay. Arya had told them about her plan and now they were hiding, waiting for Jaqen to appear or give them a signal. They were also waiting for Vyolet, but they were no signs of the girl. Jaqen had said she would join them later, but he didn't say how much later.

The waiting started to get long and Gendry Hot Pie started to get nervous. There were three guards standing in the gate and they didn't look like they were about to leave at any point.

"The sour cherries was all crushed up and ready," said Hot Pie thinking of the delicious pastry he had helped made and wouldn't try.

"Shut up," Gendry snapped at him.

"Probably in the piecrust by now," Hot Pie continued. "In the oven. The nice, warm oven."

"Shut up." It was now Arya who said it. "What did you bring?"

"The cheese could be better," Hot Pie replied looking at the bag he was carrying. "I did get some nice sausages."

"What did he want us to do about those guards?" Gendry asked Arya.

"He didn't say," the girl replied. "He just said, 'Walk through the gates'."

"What about the guards?"

"He didn't say anything about the guards."

"What, he left that bit out?" Gendry said sarcastically. "It's a pretty important part, don't you think?"

"We have to trust him," Arya replied firmly.

"Trust him?" Gendry repeated. "You trusted him to fight with us when you set him free and he ran."

"I want to go back to the kitchens," said Hot Pie.

"Shut up," Arya told them. "Stay here if you're afraid."

And before they could stop her, she stood up and walked to the gate.

"Arry, don't," Gendry called her. Then he quickly followed her. Hot Pie followed too, not wanting to be left behind alone.

As soon as they approached the guards, they realized they didn't have to worry about them. They were already dead.

As promised, Arya and her friends walked out of Harrenhal at midnight.

* * *

Vyolet was lying on her bed, nervously pretending to be asleep. Her maid Lannia was sewing, sitting next to the fire.

Around this hour, Jaqen usually appeared on her chambers to train her. The girl just hoped he had been smart enough to not come tonight. She hoped he had listened that she wasn't to be left alone.

But just as she thought that, her door burst opened and Jaqen walked in.

Vyolet sat up in bed as quickly as she was burnt. Lannia jumped out, but Jaqen grabbed her and covered her mouth before she could scream. Lannia fought for a moment before closing her eyes and passing out. Jaqen left the girl on the chair she had been sitting.

"What did you do to her?" Vyolet asked him, jumping out of bed and running to the girl.

"Don't worry about her. Your maid is just sleeping."

Jaqen closed the door behind him and then went to her wardrobe. He pulled out a dress thick enough and threw it at her.

Vyolet caught it.

"Time to go, lovely girl."

The girl frowned.

"Now?"

"If a girl wants to leave with her friends then yes."

Vyolet nodded and grabbed her corset lying on a chair and passed it to Jaqen.

"It seems you'll have to help me after all," Vyolet replied, turning around. Jaqen's fingers moved quite quickly as he gently but firmly pulled at the strings on the corset and then helped her with the dress.

"You seemed very familiar with women's clothes," Vyolet told him sarcastically as she put on some boots and a cloak.

Jaqen gave her a look.

"A man is not a green boy, lovely girl. He has helped many ladies taking off and putting on their clothes."

He gave her a smirk and she scrunched up her nose.

"Ugh."

When she was all dressed up, she went to her jewelry chest and took out a ribbon to tie her hair. It was a light shade of purple, a violet shade. Vyolet smiled and tied her hair with it. Then she went to her bed and retrieve the two daggers and the books. She put the books on a bag and tied the dagger around her hips with a belt. Then she went to her jewelry box and threw the contents in.

"Lovely girl, we don't have all night," Jaqen told her exasperated.

Vyolet looked at him and shrugged.

"We could sell it later. I don't have gold on me."

She walked up to him and he opened the door.

"Wait but what about the guards...?"

She didn't need to worry about the guards. The five soldiers were already dead. And somehow Jaqen had the bodies hanging from twisting irons or against the wall, to make them appear as if they were just standing. It was the creepiest thing she had ever seen.

She turned to Jaqen.

"How...?"

"Later. We cannot loose time, lovely girl."

Jaqen grabbed her hand and pulled it along the corridor. It was tricky. The Harrenhall corridors have holes all over due to the dragon's fire and the light shone through them. If one guard looked up at the right time, if they ran into one with a hole on the floor and they had to return... But Jaqen seemed to know the castle like the pal of his hand. They crossed it fast and swift, just having to hide once.

Then, just as they approached the stairs, Jaqen turned to her.

"A man has a gift for a girl. But a girl must be quick."

Vyolet frowned as he pulled her in a corridor.

"A gift?"

Jaqen shushed her and as they walked through the corridor, Vyolet saw a large frame, against the wall. It was a guard. His hand were tied. He was gagged and there was a bent iron bar through his shoulder, pinning him into place. Vyolet frowned at the gruesome picture but she froze when she saw the man's face. It wasn't a random guard. It was the one who had beheaded Ellion.

Vyolet glared at the man, feeling anger and hatred flowing through her body like it was blood.

Jaqen took out the pretty dagger he had got for her and put it in her hand.

"A girl must be quick."

Vyolet looked at the dagger in her hand and then at Jaqen.

"A life for a life, lovely girl." Jaqen bowed his head. Vyolet nodded and then walked to the guard placing the dagger on his neck.

The guard opened his eyes wide with terror. Tears were falling from them.

"Do you remember the night you and your men almost rape me?" Vyolet whispered to him in anger. "You killed a boy remember? His name was Ellion Coldrion. He saved me, many times over, and I loved him."

Vyolet made a pause in which the guard just shake with fear. The girl pressed the dagger deeper and a fine red line appeared. The guard whimpered.

"You robbed me of my future with him. Now I'll take yours. I must warn you. He died instantly. I don't think you'll be so lucky."

Vyolet raised her hand to made a cut on his face but a hand stopped her. The girl turned to Jaqen surprised and frowned at him.

"No cruelty, lovely girl," Jaqen replied seriously. "Either a quick death, or a man will do it."

Vyolet glared at Jaqen.

"He cut Ellion's hand before stabbing him," Vyolet spat. "He didn't give Ellion the option without cruelty."

"So you want to lower to his level?"

"I want justice."

"You want pain. And there's no time for that. The pain you inflict in this man, won't take away yours."

Jaqen slowly let go of her hand but Vyolet was sure that if she tried to torture the guard, Jaqen just kill him before she had the chance. Glaring at Jaqen, Vyolet put away the ornamented dagger and changed it for the plain one. In a swift movement she cut the man's throat.

Jaqen bowed solemnly.

"Valar Morgulis," he said.

Vyolet however wasn't done. She stabbed the guard's chest with the dagger, letting the river of blood grow. She left it there and then took off the ribbon that tied her hair. She tied it in a bow, around the dagger's handle.

Jaqen raised an eyebrow and she smiled at him.

"It's a message for my uncle," Vyolet replied. "His favorite. An iris bow."

Jaqen then untied the belt that carried the guards sword. With his free hand he grabbed Vyolet's hand covered in blood and dragged her out of the corridor. According to his calculations, they only have a few moments before they found the dead guards that were supposed to keep her in.

Finally, they reached the stairs that led to the courtyard and the opened gates.

"Now go straight to the gates," Jaqen told her, nodding at the stairs. "If you hurry you'll still see your friends, but if you don't, just keep going north. You'll catch up with them eventually. Don't stop, lovely girl and don't wait for a man. Here."

He passed her the sword he had taken from the guard. Vyolet nodded and smiled at him.

"Thank you, Jaqen," Vyolet told him, looking at him a last time. "Will I ever see you again?"

Jaqen bowed his head.

"Go."

Vyolet put on her hood and then ran downstairs to the gate. As she crossed the threshold, she felt like a heavy weight had felt off from her shoulders. She saw three figures walking ahead going to the trees and she smiled. She ran until she caught with Arya, Gendry and Hot Pie. They didn't stopped until the nest morning.

When finally ser Clegane realized both girls were gone he killed five of his own men. He then killed every servant at the castle and the farmers he met as he rode south to King's Landing.

* * *

Vyolet, Arya, Gendry and Hot Pie were walking northeast through a narrow valley. They hadn't stopped all night, but they needed a safe place to rest, one they haven't find yet.

They were halfway the valley when Gendry spotted him first. He stopped and looked up. Then Arya, Vyolet and then Hot Pie. Jaqen H'ghar was standing at top of a small cliff looking down at them.

"How did he find us?" Gendry asked taken aback.

Neither Arya nor Vyolet replied, they just walked forward. As they surrounded the cliff, Jaqen disappeared. Vyolet frowned. But Jaqen just reappeared behind them, smirking at both girls.

"What are you doing here?" Vyolet asked him.

"Waiting for you," he replied and started walking. Vyolet and Arya walked next to him.

"How did you know we'd come this way?"Arya asked.

Jaqen smiled down at her.

"After all the things you have seen, this is your question?"

Arya didn't have to be told twice.

"How did you kill those guards?" She asked. "Was it hard?"

Jaqen turned to Vyolet and smiled.

"No harder than taking a new name, if you know the way."

Vyolet smiled back.

"Show me how," Arya told him. "I want to be able to do it, too."

Jaqen stopped and Arya walked in front of him. The little girl's eyes shone with amazement and eagerness.

"If you would learn, you must come with me."

"Where?"

"Far and away across the Narrow Sea to Braavos."

He then again glanced at Vyolet who realized she hadn't thought of his propose until this moment. He had said he would help her to find out about her abilities, but would be wise? Her mother still thought she was Cersei's prisoner. But she couldn't go to her. She knew Tywin would have someone to be alert if she escaped or managed to send a message. And then there was Arya and going to the North, or to her brother and mother to be exact. She was hoping for the best but it was war. And Sansa was still at King's Landing.

"My dancing master was from Braavos," Arya told Jaqen.

"To be a dancing master is a special thing," he told her. "But to be a faceless man, that is something else entirely. The girl has many names on her lips. Joffrey, Cersei, Tywin Lannister, llyn Payne, the Hound. Names to offer up to the Red God. She could offer them all one by one."

"I want to. But I can't." Arya looked at Jaqen. "I need to find my brother and mother."

She made a pause and then looked up at Vyolet.

"And my sister. I need to find her, too."

Vyolet smiled softly and nodded.

Jaqen bowed his head and then turned to look at Vyolet.

"What about you, lovely girl?"

Vyolet bit her lip. It was a hard choice but it was the right one.

"I will go."

Arya turned to her so quickly Vyolet was sure she had hurt herself.

"What? No, you can't."

Vyolet looked at Arya. Her face was twisted in shock and pain. It felt like a stab in the gut. Vyolet knelt in front of the little girl and took her hands.

"Arya, this is the best path for me," she told her. "I can't go home, and I can't go with you."

"Yes you can," Arya told her. "I'll talk to mother and Robb. They won't hurt you."

Vyolet gave her a little bitter smile.

"I believe the Starks have honor. Your father showed that to me, but this is war and Sansa is Cersei's prisoner. They'll trade me for her in a heartbeat. I would do it."

Arya shook her head.

"But you promised. You promised you wouldn't leave me. You promised."

Vyolet closed her eyes, thinking. If Tywin had been right Robb Stark's army wasn't too far from here. Vyolet stood up and Arya's face fell.

"Jaqen, could we take Arya to her brother first?" She asked him.

Jaqen gave her a look, so she quickly added:

"Her brother's army was about to arrive to Harrenhal, but we're closer to Riverrun. Arya has family there. They will protect her until she can send word to her Robb and her mother. Please Jaqen."

The man looked at Vyolet and then at Arya, both their faces pleading.

Jaqen sighed.

"Very well. But only until we reach the Riverlands or I'm leaving you behind, lovely girl."

Vyolet grinned at him and nodded. Arya grinned at him in a similar way. Jaqen shook his head sighing but smiled to himself.

"Now let's move on. Tell those two to hurry. We haven't the whole day."

He nodded at Gendry and Hot Pie who were standing behind, staring at them. Jaqen walked ahead and Arya quickly followed him. Vyolet waved at Gendry and Hot Pie so they would catch up. It was a good day, she thought. The sky was clear and blue, and the sun was shinning on them. Vyolet was sure it was because of the good things to come. She could see it. They would take Arya to the Riverlands where Gendry and Hot Pie could stay with her. She would wrote to her mother she was safe and she would travel to Essos. Cersei and Tywin wouldn't find her there... But then, the nightmares started.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Out of Luck

...

"You told him what?" Vyolet said, bursting out laughing and bending over Jaqen's shoulder. He was sitting down on a fallen tree trunk and she had offered to help him remove his armor. They had found a lonely clearing in a forest and they had made a little camp to eat and rest a little. They had gathered a bit of good and Hot Pie was cooking some of the sausages in the fire. It smelled really good but they all were thirsty. Hot Pie hadn't bring any water, wine or ale with him. The only that had a water skin with him was Jaqen. They had already drank the small amount of ale he had and hadn't been enough after the long walk. They had found a small brook on the way but with the war going on, it wasn't safe to drink from. They'll have to wait until they reached a town.

Thus, once settled around the fire and the sky turning a darker shade of purple, they sat and talked about how they had escaped. As Vyolet helped Jaqen undo the armor so he could rest Arya told him how she had tricked him into helping them. Jaqen's sour look was enough to send her into a laughing fit.

"It's not something to be laughed upon," the man said, glaring at Vyolet. "A man wanted to help a girl and she took advantage of him."

Arya still didn't looked the least sorry about it.

"Sorry, sorry," replied Vyolet clutching her middle but she was still laughing.

"A man will finish without your assistance, lovely girl," Jaqen replied upset and tried to move his shoulder away from Vyolet's grasp.

"Oh don't be like that," Vyolet replied still laughing, and quickly took away the shoulder plates. Jaqen just gave Vyolet a sour look while the girl helped him out of his armor, still trying to holding back her laugh.

"So what are you?" Gendry asked Jaqen after a pause, once the man was out of his armor.

Jaqen's lip corner raise slightly. He knew the smith boy didn't like him nor trust him.

"A man."

"A normal man doesn't do the things you do," Gendry replied coldly. "The guards you killed... The way you killed them..."

"The important part is that we're free now," Vyolet interrupted Gendry giving him an exasperated look. "And that Jaqen is with us."

"Well I don't trust him," the boy declared crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

"I do." Vyolet raised an eyebrow at him.

"So do I," Arya replied stubbornly.

"Yeah? Like when he helped us fight the Lannisters?" Gendry asked them, glaring at Jaqen. The Lorathi returned the glare.

"A man had more important things to do _._ "

"Like joining the Lannisters?" Gendry replied sarcastically.

"Gendry." Vyolet gave him a look and shook her head. The last thing they needed right now is a fight.

"A man owed a debt to a girl," Jaqen told Gendry coldly. "He paid it. Yet he does own nothing to you, _boy_."

Gendry opened his mouth again but Vyolet interrupted him.

"That's enough, you two!" Vyolet said angrily. "You don't have to like each other you just have to keep your voice down so the Lannisters won't capture us again. Can't you manage that?"

Gendry looked down at his hands a bit ashamed Vyolet was angry at him. Jaqen just looked at her amused.

They had a hearty dinner but they didn't enjoy it as much for their lack of water. And they needed to remedy that. They could survive without that much food but they would die without water.

They finished eating the sausages and the cheese and sat in silence around the fire for a while. But as Arya's head started to bob due to fatigue, Vyolet called it a night.

"We should take turns watching," Vyolet told them. "We're still too close to Harrenhal."

"Sleep, lovely girl," Jaqen told her, now sharpening one of his daggers. "A man would stay awake and guard you."

"I'll stay up too," Gendry quickly added, giving Jaqen a distrustful look.

Vyolet sighed and shook her head.

"Alright. Come on Arya. But wake me up." She looked at Jaqen and then at Gendry. "So you two can sleep at least a few hours."

Gendry nodded and Jaqen bowed his head.

Vyolet and Arya lied down on the grass next to each other. The fire was warming them but it wasn't strong enough and the weather was getting colder. Vyolet took off her cloak and covered Arya and herself with it. It wasn't still enough. Arya had fallen asleep but she was shaking.

There was then a flash of read and Jaqen's red cloak was now on top of the two girls. Vyolet turned her head and her eyes meets Jaqen's.

"The night's are getting colder," he said.

Vyolet smiled and nodded.

"Thank you."

Jaqen smiled back and returned to her place on the fallen tree. Vyolet stared at his hands as he sharpened his blade. The rhythm and the motion quickly helped her to fall asleep.

* * *

There was a storm. The sky was black and the winds were smashing against the walls ruthlessly. The thunders made the earth tremble and the sea's waves were threatening to swallow everything. And Vyolet heard it. A baby crying. And a roar getting louder and louder... Then there was fire everywhere. Vyolet couldn't see anything but the yellow and orange flames surrounding her as a soft warm cloak... But then the fire turned blue and cold, and a dark figure walked through it. It was a woman the same size as Vyolet. The woman walked to Vyolet and grabbed her by the neck, crushing her throat. Vyolet tried to push her away but she was stronger. Vyolet couldn't breath and she was choking. And someone was calling her... _Vyolet, Vyolet..._

She tried to scratch away the hands of the woman but it was useless. _Vyolet, Vyolet..._ The blue fire shone on the woman's face lighting up her eyes, the same color and shape than Vyolet's...

"Vyolet... Vyolet!"

The girl woke up with a gasp, trashing around. Hands were holding her and she tried to push them back until she realized it was Jaqen and Arya. Gendry and Hot Pie stood up next to them, all watching her with concern.

"Are you alright?" Arya asked her worriedly.

Vyolet closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. It was just a dream. Just a bloody dream. The girl nodded and opened her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I'm fine," Vyolet told them, her voice a bit weak. She looked up to her friends and forced a smile. "Just a silly nightmare, sorry."

"I wish we'd have some water to make a tea," Arya told her. "Old Nan used to give me tea with milk and honey when I had nightmares. It helped."

Vyolet smiled down at Arya and gave her a quick hug.

"Go back to sleep, Arya. I'm sorry I woke you up. You to Hot Pie."

The burly boy shrugged.

"No worries. What about a bit of cheese? Don't know if it would help."

Vyolet shook her head with a smile.

"Thank you."

Slowly Hot Pie returned to the spot where he had been sleeping. The boy curled up and fell asleep as well. Arya had lied down next to Vyolet again, falling asleep as quickly again.

Vyolet watched her and then moved out of the cloaks, pulling them tight around the little girl so she wouldn't be cold.

"Why don't you two sleep a little?" Vyolet told Jaqen and Gendry who were still looking at her. Gendry looked concern but there was something more in Jaqen's eyes. Something Vyolet didn't know what it was.

Gendry mumbled she should try to sleep a bit more but Jaqen just shrugged, slid down the tree and leaned back against it. He closed his eyes. Vyolet sat next to him watching at Gendry with a raised eyebrow. The boy huffed and lied on the ground as well trying to fall asleep. After a while, Vyolet was sure Gendry had fallen asleep because of his snoring, mixing with Hot Pie's. It was a wonder they didn't wake up Arya.

However, despite Jaqen's closed eyes and his chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm, Vyolet didn't thought he was asleep. Not really. She couldn't explain why, but she felt like even now, he was watching her.

* * *

"There's a village a few miles from here. We can stop there and buy some supplies," Vyolet said. "I think we're still two days away from the Stark camp."

"A man thinks three, but you're right lovely girl, we should buy more food."

Gendry raised his eyebrows at Vyolet when he heard Jaqen's pet name for her. Vyolet shrugged glaring at him.

"Shut up."

They continued through the woods until they found a small stone house. Before Vyolet could stop her, Arya ran to it, pearing through the window.

"Look. I think it's empty!" She told them waving at them. As they joined Arya the girl pushed the door open, stepping in.

"It doesn't look dirty."

Vyolet stepped in as well with Gendry and Hot Pie. Jaqen stayed in the threshold looking around as if the walls were covered in words to be read. The house it was small. It wall all in one room. A hay bed on a corner, a hearth on the north wall, and a squared wood table with four uneven stools. There was an ax on one of the walls, and herbs hanging from the wall.

"Where are the owners?" Vyolet said looking around frowning. They couldn't be far. This house had been lived in not long ago.

"Maybe they're hunting," Hot Pie offered, "or went for water or..."

"They're dead," Arya finished grimly.

Hot Pie gave her an indignant look.

"Why are you always so negative?" He asked.

Arya shrugged. But it was all she knew, death.

"We'll stop here," Jaqen then told them.

The four friends turned to him.

"Why?" Arya asked.

"Vyolet can't go into town. Someone may recognize her," Jaqen told the little girl.

"I can wear my hood up," Vyolet offered placing a hand on her chest where her cloak ties joined together with a brooch.

Jaqen shook his head.

"It's not worth risking it, lovely girl. A man would go quickly and fetch what we need."

"Yeah? How do we know you won't run off with our money?" Gendry quickly intervened.

"Gendry!" Vyolet scolded him.

"If a man had wanted to run off with your money, boy, I would have done it already," Jaqen replied annoyed. "And you wouldn't be able to stop me or even notice."

Gendry glared at him but he couldn't reply to that.

"Jaqen's right," Vyolet told Gendry quickly. "It's not worth the risk. I'll just wait for you, here."

Gendry turned to her as she had said something insane.

"You can't here stay alone!"

Vyolet crossed her arms and frowned.

"Why not?"

"Someone could come and do something to you!"

"I have my sword."

"Yeah, what if you're outnumbered?"

"That's why a man suggested you waiting here with her," said Jaqen sarcastically.

Gendry glared at him stepping to Jaqen but Vyolet placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back.

"Look, just go with Jaqen, Gendry," Vyolet told the boy. "I'll just wait here with Hot Pie."

"Yeah, I'm here too," Arya snapped upset.

"No, you go with them," Vyolet said. "Jaqen and Gendry will keep you much safer than I could."

Gendry looked at Vyolet.

"But, Lady... Vyolet..."

"I'll be fine, Gendry," Vyolet interrupted him with a smile. "Trust me."

Gendry stared at Vyolet who gave him a firm look. Then he sighed, knowing that she could be as stubborn as Arya so it was pointless argue with her.

"Fine, but be careful. We won't be long."

Vyolet nodded.

"Alright."

Jaqen moved aside so Gendry could walked out of the house and Arya quickly followed him. Jaqen took Vyolet's arm and took her aside from Hot Pie. He pulled a dagger from his sleeve. This had a very thick leather sheath.

"Here."

Vyolet took it frowning.

"Another dagger? How many of these you carry?"

Vyolet was about to take it from the sheath, curious it was as pretty as the first he gave her, but Jaqen quickly put a hand over hers, stopping her.

"Don't. It's poisonous."

Vyolet looked up to him a bit startled.

"Only use it as an emergency, lovely girl," Jaqen told her giving her a serious look. "And don't touch it with your bare hand. Just a scratch with the blade will give you a fever that will kill you."

Vyolet nodded. Then she placed the dagger around her waist, careful that the sheath didn't move. Then she took the bag with all her jewelry and passed it to Jaqen.

"Buy a bow, and a small sword for Arya if you find one. Water-skins and as much water as you can carry."

Jaqen took the bag with a bow and left the house closing the door after him.

* * *

"Here. Is this enough?" Vyolet asked Hot Pie leaving a small pile of wood next to him. They were outside the small house building a fire to cook some food. The cheese wasn't lasting forever at this rhythm and they still hadn't broken fast. When Jaqen, Gendry and Arya returned, they would have the breakfast ready.

"Yes, I think so," Hot Pie replied as the fire started to grow.

"I think I saw a couple of rabbits," Vyolet told him, standing up. "It'll be a bit tricky to kill them without a bow but I think..."

Vyolet stopped looking around, suddenly very stiff. Hot Pie looked up at her confused.

"What?"

"Horses," Vyolet replied tense.

Hot Pie looked at her scared.

"What do we do?"

The horses were closer by the noise. She grabbed Hot Pie and pulled him to his feet.

"Leave the fire, let's go..."

They started running South, towards Jaqen and the others had left. But they hadn't gotten fast before they were surrounded by Lannister soldiers. Eight, Vyolet counted. More than she and Hot Pie could handle right now.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" Said one of them, dismounting. The others followed leering at the girl.

The man took off his helmet. It was burly man with a scar on his face and beady black eyes.

"Hello there, beautiful," said other stepping forward. He was huge. Tall and fat, and Vyolet knew if he took a hold of her, he would overpowered her. Vyolet stepped back instantly but reminded herself quickly to stand her ground.

"What is doing a girl so beautiful like you with a boy like this?" Asked the man with the scar.

The voice of that man made all Vyolet's hair stand, but she didn't let them see. She smiled meekly, as her handmaids had smiled at her so many times.

"We were just preparing supper, my lords. This is my son." Vyolet gestured at Hot Pie.

Her words were received by booming laugh. If only Hot Pie looked younger than her.

"Your son? Do you think we're idiots?" Asked a blond man with a fake silver teeth. "He's a pig boy. You're a lady."

"A very pretty lady," the fat man added. Another shiver ran through Vyolet's spine and she shuddered in disgust.

"I am just a farm girl..." Vyolet insisted pronouncing the words like her maids.

"Like hell you are." The man with scar buffed. "You can't even fake a decent accent."

"You know, Tywin Lannister is looking for a couple of ladies that got away," said the man with the silver teeth. "Wouldn't be your name be Stark?"

"No, the Stark girl is supposed to be younger," the one with the scar replied.

"This one looks just ripe." The man man stepped to Vyolet again and she stepped back again.

"What's your name gorgeous?" The one with the scar asked. "We may leave your friend alive if you're worth our while."

Vyolet glared at the men and slowly reached for her sword hilt under her belt.

"Run," she mumbled to Hot Pie under her breath so the men wouldn't hear.

Hot Pie turned to her startled. The boy was probably more scared than her but said: "What? I won't leave you."

"I said run!"

Vyolet pulled out her sword and raised it. She also untied her cloak who fell smoothly to the ground. She needed to be able to move.

One soldier snickered.

"You're going to fight us, love?"

Vyolet smirked, despite her entrails twisting disgust and her blood thickening with fear.

"I'm going to kill you," she replied calm. This erased their smiles.

The one with the scar nodded at his men.

"Get them."

Luckily, they had the arrogance to stepped down from their horses. Otherwise, Vyolet and Hot Pie would be in real trouble, but still the girl didn't like their odds.

"Run, now!" She yelled at Hot Pie, pushing him away from the men and swung her sword to met the one from the blond man approaching. He looked surprised Vyolet had blocked her strike but then he attacked again, along with the rest of the men.

* * *

Jaqen, Gendry and Arya didn't take long to but what they needed. The man purchased a bow light enough for Vyolet to carry and use, a sword Arya could hold and four water skins. He let Arya filled them while he bought some food and Gendry bought a bucket and filled it with water. They were close to the Forks now, but they would take the water to Vyolet and Hot Pie so everybody could have some, refill their water skins, and continue.

As the walked back, Gendry noticed the extra sword Jaqen was carrying.

"We don't need that. We all have swords," he said.

Jaqen rose an eyebrow to him.

"A girl, doesn't," he said, nodding at Arya whose immediately lit up.

"Really? It's for me?" The girl said.

Jaqen smiled amused.

"It was Vyolet's request."

"Can I see it?"

"When we reach camp," Jaqen replied placing the sword away from Arya's little greedy hands.

"You said it was mine!"

"It is, but it was bought with a lovely girl's gold. She should give it to an impetus girl."

Arya pouted, crossing her arms, stubbornly.

"Oh, please, Jaqen," Arya asked him and continued to ask him on their way back. "Just a quick peek. I won't use it... I promise..."

But his arm extended as quick as a snake stopping her.

"Shh!"

Gendry stopped as well and watched him suspiciously.

"What is it?"

"Horseshoe prints going to the camp," Jaqen replied. "Several horses."

Both Arya and Gendry's faces lost color.

Jaqen finally handed the small sword to Arya.

"Here. Point the end to the ground. You pull your sword too and don't make noise," Jaqen told Gendry. "Don't let them see you either."

Gendry placed the bucket of water and the provisions he was carrying and followed Jaqen who moved as smooth and silent as he were weightless. The closer they got to the house they saw four horses tied to different trees. There was something on the ground and as they came closer they saw Vyolet's cloak on the ground as well as large crimson puddles and something that turned Arya's stomach. There was a cut hand lying in a patch of grass covered in blood and just a few feet away from it, there was the body of a soldier with a deep cut in the back of his neck.

"What happened here?" Arya asked.

"There's too much blood. It can't be all his," Gendry said. He looked like he was about to vomit.

Jaqen frowned looking at the puddles and signs the other two didn't saw. Like the fact the body had both his hands so that one belonged to a second man. The crumbled grass and the cuts in the trunks that, along with the blood, told him about the fight that had just unfolded.

He made a sign for them to come and as they got closer the patches of red grass grew larger. And they saw the corpses. One man lied on his side with a puddle of blood underneath, one didn't have a head, one without a hand was lying on it's front. A fifth one was stabbed through the neck to a tree and a fat one lied on his back with the dagger Jaqen had given to Vyolet before leaving, stuck on his eye socket. The fat's man face was a dark shade of purple.

As Arya looked around, she was waiting to see the bodies of Vyolet and Hot Pie. That how it was after all. She always losing people. This wouldn't be different.

They stopped for a moment taking in on the carnage.

"Who did all this?" Gendry said, speechless. Arya didn't have an answer and Jaqen didn't even listen to him. He was staring at the corpses and then at the house.

"Stay back until a man says so," he told Arya and Gendry walking to the door. He placed a hand on it and then opened it softly. There was a yell and Jaqen stopped a hand holding a dagger just in time.

Vyolet blinked at Jaqen, holding her wrist like he had expected it. Hot Pie was behind the girl.

"It was about time," Vyolet mumbled before collapsing. Jaqen quickly caught her, the dagger in her hand dropping to the floor. It was the silver dagger he gave her.

"Vyolet!" Arya said, bursting into the house.

"What happened?" Gendry asked.

"They got me," Vyolet replied, holding onto Jaqen to stand. She had a cut on her side bleeding into her dress.

"No! Jaqen help her. Please," Arya begged the man, but he had already picked her up. He sat Vyolet on the table.

"Boy, boil some water!" Jaqen barked at Hot Pie, startling him. "Now!"

Hot Pie scrambled out of the house quickly. Then Jaqen turned to Gendry.

"Take the cloaks of the soldiers, the ones that are clean and look on the horses for rags."

Gendry's jaw tightened but he obeyed, putting his sword down and leaving the house after Hot Pie.

Jaqen cupped Vyolet's face and lifted it lightly. The girl was nodding off. Probably the stress of the fight finally catching up with her. Vyolet's disoriented eyes found Jaqen's. He quickly examined her. Her hair fell on her face tangled and in dissaray, her nose was bleeding, her lip was busted and she had a dark purple forming on her face. Her white neck was marked with purple finger marks. She had a small cut near her breastplate and her left hand, tightly closed in a fist was bleeding. Probably a cut. Her dress was torn and covered in dirt and blood. Vyolet had fought with nail and tooth. Her only wound was on her middle, but couldn't know how bad it was without looking at it properly.

"I have to take off the dress, lovely girl."

Vyolet nodded granted him permission. Swiftly Jaqen undo the back of the dress. Carefully he peeled it out from Scarlett, starting from the top.

Then Gendry entered the house carrying a bunch of tangled red cloth.

"What are you doing?" He asked Jaqen angrily. Jaqen didn't even turn to acknowledge Gendry.

"Can't reach the wound with this in the middle," Jaqen replied, wrapping a hand around Vyolet so he could lift her up and pulled the dress down her legs.

"It's fine, Gendry," Vyolet assured the boy who looked at Vyolet startled and then away, blushing. She was now in just her white corset and shift, both now covered in blood.

Jaqen took off his cloak and gave it to Vyolet so she could cover.

"Thank you." The girl smiled at him, covering her front with the cloak.

Jaqen turned to Gendry and nodded at Vyolet's discarded dagger on the floor.

"Cut the cloaks and make bandages." Gendry again didn't like to be given orders by Jaqen but he obeyed. Red faced Gendry walked to the dagger avoiding Vyolet with his eyes but Jaqen knew he was watching. The boy grabbed the dagger, then walked to the cloaks on the other side of the small room.

Jaqen then leaned over Vyolet's side, examining the wound.

"Well, a girl's corset stop the blade. The wound it's not as bad as it should be."

Vyolet sighed and smiled lightly.

"So my mother was right. There is really a use to the corsets."

Jaqen looked up to her and smile back.

"However there's a trick, lovely girl. When a man undoes the corset..."

Vyolet nodded.

"I know. Just do it."

"What? What happens?" Arya asked looking at them both.

"The corset squeezes your middle into shape, Arya," Vyolet explained. "When Jaqen opens the corset, the wound would open too. It could be larger than we think."

"A man would be quick," Jaqen promised. "But a girl's corset would be useless. And I have to take your shift."

Vyolet looked at Jaqen and nodded.

"Do it."

Jaqen pulled out one of his dagger and he turned to Gendry. The boy was cutting up bandages while trying in vain to not look at Vyolet. His face was black with dirt but his ears were red.

"Would you give us a moment, boy?"

Gendry glared at Jaqen before turning to Vyolet. The girl was paler than usual and looked like she was going to fall asleep at any moment. Still she managed a little smile.

"Please, Gendry."

The boy nodded and left the bandages and capes on a pile on the ground before leaving the house. Once Gendry was gone, Jaqen walked behind Vyolet and placed the tip of his dagger in the base of her corset. He cut the ties with a quick movement and he took off the garment. Then he helped her taking off the shift without moving much. Vyolet was furiously blushing as her body bared in front of Jaqen but he kept his eyes down, respecting her privacy as much as he could. One the shift was off, Vyolet quickly covered her front with Jaqen's cloak, as the man leaned towards her wounded side. Vyolet closed her eyes, holding her breath. She felt Jaqen's fingers barely touching her side, then going up to her ribs and to the back of her back. If she wasn't feeling like she was going to faint any time soon, she would have noticed the goosebumps or the shivers running down her spine. She thought it was all caused by her wounds.

"Well, look at that."

Vyolet turned to Jaqen.

"What?"

Jaqen smirked at her.

"You are very lucky, lovely girl. There are no broken ribs so a girl will heal fast and they didn't hit any organs so she's out of danger. Your wound is large but no deep."

Vyolet nodded, smiling lightly. Jaqen stood up then and went to grab one of the rags Gendry had cut up. The man took out his waterskin and put a generous amount on the rag before going back to the girls. He sat in front of Vyolet's bleeding side and start cleaning the wound as quickly and softly as possible.

It stung a little, but Vyolet just clenched her teeth and bear it, just slightly moving occasionally.

Jaqen turned to the side and smiled lightly when he saw Arya. The little girl was watching Vyolet with a worried look, biting her lip. She had been standing like that since they had arrived.

"Lovely girl, can you go fetch some water please?"He asked Arya, startling her. Arya nodded and quickly left the house, not before glancing at Vyolet as if she would suddenly dissappear.

Jaqen turned around still smiling and caught Vyolet's stare.

"What?"

Vyolet shrugged softly.

"I thought I was the only lovely girl."

Jaqen's smirk grew wider, hearing something small and subtle in her voice. But it was still there.

"A girl it is most lovely. And deadly," he assured her. "She killed eight Lannister soldiers alone, defending a moron boy."

Vyolet frowned lightly at the coldness in Jaqen's voice.

"It wasn't Hot Pie's fault," Vyolet told him "He's not a fighter."

"A girl is not either," Jaqen replied with the same coldness. "Still she bears the wounds of a warrior while the boy hid behind her skirts."

Jaqen looked up to her frowning.

"It could have been worse, lovely girl. You should have ran."

Vyolet looked down biting her lip.

"It was worse, Jaqen."

Vyolet opened her bleeding hand and Jaqen stopped shocked. The cut in her hand it wasn't a simple cut. It looked infected and the skin around it had the same purple shade than the fat man's face outside.

"I touch it," Vyolet told him in a small voice. "The dagger. It was an accident. They almost killed Hot Pie so I..."

"This is bigger than a scratch," Jaqen replied taking her hand in his and examining.

Vyolet nodded.

"I know. But you have the antidote, don't you?"

Until then, Vyolet was sure the worst wound she had was in her side. She was sure Jaqen would carry with him an antidote. It was the smart thing to do. But as the man slowly raised his eyes to her, she realized the truth.

Vyolet swallowed and turned to him.

"Will I die?"

Jaqen reached for her wounded hand. He closed her hand in a fist and held it between his own.

"A man is sorry, lovely girl."

* * *

 **Thank you, guys for all your wonderful reviews. And for reading, liking and following this story. They made my day.**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Shadows and Nightmares

...

Vyolet looked down at her hand between Jaqen's, her brain slowly absorbing the information. She was going to die. She was never going to see her mother again... her brother Dallin, her sister Alis, Esthis...

Vyolet extracted her hand from Jaqen's and opened her hand to see the bloody wound. The purple had started to spread around her hand.

"Here are the... What happened to you?"

Vyolet looked up, closing her hand quickly in a fist but it was too late. Both Gendry and Arya looked at her hand with wide eyes. Vyolet forced a smile and shook her hand.

"It's nothing. Really."

"Vyolet..." But Gendry's shaky voice and Arya's desolate expression made it impossible for her to lie to them.

"I touched a poisonous blade," she admitted.

Gendry shook his head running a hand through his face.

"No. No...! You gave it to her, don't you?" He asked Jaqen ferociously.

Jaqen glared at the boy and he stood up.

"A man did. And a boy should lower his voice. It would not help a girl his shouting."

Then, as if Gendry were not there anymore, Jaqen turned his back on the boy and placed the back of his hand over Vyolet's face. She was burning up. He had assumed her sleepiness was due to the rush of the fight but it was the poison, slipping through her veins.

"The fever has started already. A man thought you were warm because of the fight."

"What kind of poison it is?" Arya asked walking to Vyolet. The girl was shaking. "If we furry and reach my brother, he could help you. He has Maesters with him that will know what to do."

Vyolet smiled at Arya's suggestion and ran her hands through her short dirty messy hair.

"We are still away from your brother, sweet girl," Jaqen said softly as he moved to take the strips of cloth Gendry had made. "A girl wouldn't bear the trip."

"But you can't die," Arya replied her voice breaking. A tear left a trail on the girl's dirty cheek. "You can't. You promised it would be alright."

Vyolet looked at Arya, her heart aching. She didn't want to leave her alone, not without knowing she would be safe.

Jaqen bounded Vyolet's wound in silence. He heard Arya's pleas in silence as he observed Vyolet. The girl didn't look afraid of dying anymore, she just looked focused on Arya and on her pain. And she was. Vyolet wanted to hug Arya and told her it would be alright, but Jaqen had never lied to her and she had seen the truth in his eyes. There was no hope. Even there, however, Jaqen offered her some comfort. Feeling him so close as he bounded her wound gave her a bit of strenght to not break in front of Arya and Gendry. If the situation was different, if her brain weren't fighting against the sleepiness of the poison, Vyolet would have noticed more Jaqen's arms wrapping around her as he placed the bandages on. His warms hands on her, his body accidentally brushing against her legs or breasts but she wasn't thinking of that. How could she? She was dying. Her mind was going through different emotions. Fear, powerlessness, desperation, a bit of relief...

"Jaqen, please. Do something," Arya then asked him. Jaqen finished bandaging Vyolet and looked at Arya. The little girl was crying. He had never seen her cry. Not even when she should have. "Please."

Jaqen sighed softly and then bowed his head. He took Vyolet's ripped blood stained shift and he helped her put it on and then carried her to the bed.

Her body let itself fell onto the mattress, unable to stand on it's own. Then he covered her with his cloak, giving her a last look before turning to Arya and Gendry.

"Come on, bull boy."

"I'm not a boy," Gendry snapped back angrily, but his voice sounded scared.

Jaqen gave him an annoyed look.

"Then show a man. The only cure for that poison is the same plant that produces it. Its small, white, with small blue flowers. It may grew up near large trees with white bark. Also look for oak wood."

"That will cure Vyolet?" Arya asked Jaqen.

The man bowed his head.

"Only if we give her the cure now. Otherwise the poison would have ran too deep into her body to do anything."

Gendry looked at Vyolet over Jaqen's body and nodded. His annoyance towards Jaqen had dissapeared.

"I will find the damn plant."

"I'll help you." Arya quickly stepped in. Gendry nodded at her and once again left. Vyolet watched them go and it warmed her heart they were so determined to help her. But she knew better. This wasn't going to be that simple.

As Jaqen turned and walked towards her, she looked him in the eye.

"Am I going to die, aren't I?" She asked him again.

Jaqen looked down at her and for a moment she thought he actually looked sadden.

"The plant is very rare, lovely girl," he said, running his hand through her hair, pushing it away from her face. "A man is sorry. A man shouldn't have left."

"It's not your fault, Jaqen," Vyolet replied softly, closing her eyes for a moment enjoying his touch. "Better to die here with you and Arya and Gendry and Hot Pie. Than to be back on King's Landing with Joffrey, and Cersei."

Vyolet couldn't help chuckling. Jaqen looked at her confused.

"What?"

"Tywin was so worried about my safety. He had so many plans for me," Vyolet said sarcastically, with a vague smile. "Can I ask you for a favor? It's the last one."

Jaqen bowed his head.

"My mother is at Casterly Rock. She doesn't know where I am."

"A man would find her," he assured her.

"Her name is... Tell her I loved her very much. And that she mustn't be sad, because I died free. Tell her I loved my siblings too."

"I will, lovely girl."

"Tell her I know about my father and that she should've told me, but I understood why. I'm not angry. If anything, I love her more."

Jaqen still his hand in his hair and looked down at Vyolet.

"Your father?"

Vyolet opened her eyes and nodded softly. She didn't care if Jaqen knew now. Hells, if the Sven Kingdoms knew now. And besides she trusted him. He had proven to be a true friend and ally, in the worst moments.

"I always thought it was Rendal Lannister," Vyolet told Jaqen, her voice getting softer as her sleepiness grew stronger. "He was a good man, well, he was good to us. I guess it doesn't matter know, but I just found out my father was not a Lannister, but the Mad King."

Her eyes were a bit blurry so she didn't notice Jaqen's expression.

"You're a Targaryen," he said softly. Vyolet shrugged.

"A bastard Targaryen but yes. And a dragon. You know, the ones who could touch fire and..."

"A man knows."

"I can touch fire and not burn. That's why Tywin kept me so guarded. I'm glad I found you, Jaqen..."

Vyolet's voice dragged on and when she closed her eyes she didn't opened them again. Jaqen quickly sat on next to her and softly shook Vyolet.

"Wake up lovely girl."

Vyolet opened her eyes with a small gasp.

"Jaqen, tell Arya..."

"A man won't let you die."

Vyolet frowned, turning to him.

"You said there was no antidote."

"A man did. Now a man says you won't die. Don't fall asleep, promise me."

"But..."

"Lovely girl."

Jaqen's eyes were now fierce and determined, were a couple of moments ago they were dark and resigned. Vyolet nodded.

"I promise."

"Don't fall asleep. I will be back."

And with that, Jaqen stood up and strode out of the house. He found Arya's legs under a shrub, probably looking the plant he knew she would never came across in Westeros.

"Arya Stark."

Arya scrambled out of the branches and looked up at Jaqen covered in dirt and small leaves. She had more white trails on her cheeks and Jaqen knew she had been crying.

Jaqen smiled softly at her.

"Go stay with Vyolet, make sure she don't fall asleep, yes?"

Arya nodded, not questioning her new job and ran back to the house.

Then Jaqen turned to Hot Pie. The boy was flustered trying to keep the fire from dying. The water was barely simmering.

"I don't have enough wood to keep it boiling," he stammered. The boy look sad as well but Jaqen didn't have any more compassion for him.

"A girl is dying of a fever in the house because she saved your pathetic life. The least you can do it's fetch some more wood."

Hot Pie flinched at his harsh words but it snapped him out.

"Yes, sir," the boy replied before scrambling to his feet and went to look for more wood. Jaqen looked around. He would have to get rid of all these bodies as well or someone would come across them sooner or later. For first things first.

He found Gendry in the woods, looking at the ground for the plants. He had Vyolet's dagger on one hand and a piece of bark on the other. Gendry looked up when Jaqen approached.

"I found the oak. But the flowers..."

"A man will search for them. Take this and threw it in the water. Stir it until it starts to boil."

Gendry nodded and rushed back to the house. Once alone, Jaqen pulled out a small phyal from his pants. It contained a small white plant with blue flowers. The only thing that would save Vyolet. The man stared at it for a few moments, before unscrewing the phyal and let fall the plant to his hand. He put away the phyal and then crushed the small plant as if he had just tore it out of the ground.

Jaqen returned to the house. Hot Pie had gathered some small branches and was adding it to the fire. And Gendry on the other side was stirring the water furiously. They stopped when they saw him approach. The man added the flower that made the water turn blue. He grabbed the stick in Gendry's hand and stirred the potion until it became clear again. He then grabbed the iron cup on the floor next to Hot Pie and filled it with the brew.

Without a word he left them and walked back to the house.

Vyolet was struggling to keep awake while Arya held her hand and told her about her adventures in Winterfell and the troubles she got into it for it. Arya would shake her awake from time to time.

As he entered the house, Arya turned to Jaqen who nodded at the little girl. Arya moved out of the way as Jaqen knelt beside the bed. He wrapped his free hand around her shoulders and pulled her into a semi-sit position.

"Drink this lovely girl. Every drop."

She looked up to him, her eyes unfocused and Jaqen briefly wondered if it was too late. He helped her by holding the cup to her lips since she was to weak to do it. Vyolet drank it all slowly while Jaqen and her friends watched her closely. Arya was standing next to him, her hands closed in fists, Gendry was next to the table and Hot Pie on the threshold.

When she finished drinking, Jaqen lie her down softly and moved a strand of hair out of her face.

"Rest, but don't sleep until the fever has passed."

Vyolet frowned lightly.

"I'm too tired."

"You promised."

Vyolet smirked so softly.

"I did."

* * *

The two swords connected in the air with a clank. A soldier was going after Hot Pie so Vyolet had to act fast. With her left hand, she used her power to push the blond soldier she was fighting back and with a swift movement, she cut the hand holding his word clean off. Then she pushed Hot Pie out of the way, ducked the attack of the soldier since she was smaller and cut the back of his neck.

As the body felt that to the grass, the other seemed to snap into action, as the blond man knelt on the ground, holding his bloody arm, screaming in pain.

"You bitch!"

Vyolet grabbed Hot Pie with her free hand and she dragged him to the house. She needed some obstacles between them and the soldiers, especially with big one. If he grabbed her, they were done.

The man with the scar caught to them, so Vyolet pushed Hot Pie away, before turning around and meeting the man's sword with hers.

"Run! Go!" She yelled at Hot Pie as she ducked an attack from the man. She took the chance to take her dagger with the left hand and threw it to a man running to them. She missed and the dagger flew to his gut, but it must have stabbed him hard because the soldier fell screaming in agony. Vyolet again ducked away in time, making a cut on the man's leg. As he felt, grabbing the wound. She stood up. Her mind had to be focus and one hundred percent on the fight, but she worried about Hot Pie and him doing something stupid.

She was going to kill the man with a scar when something shining caught her eye. She raised her left hand and stopped the dagger just an inch away from her eye. Vyolet closed her fist and the dagger turned around and flew to the man who had threw it, stabbing him in the throat, pinning him to a tree.

The man with a scar, took notice of Vyolet's distraction and grabbed his sword. Due to his crouched position he reached Vyolet. The girl barely moved in time but felt a small cut on her breastplate. She then took away the scar's man sword away with a flourish and cut his throat. Four down, Vyolet thought as the other three caught on with her. The fat one was a bit behind but soon she'll be overpowered.

"I'll kill the ones in the left!" Hot Pie's voice startled her. The boy had gone to the house and gotten his sword. A sword he has never used and barely held right.

"No! Get back!" Vyolet said, running to meet one soldier. She again used their height against them. She passed just under a soldier's arm, as the other tried to attack her, resulting in cutting his arm off. As the man she was using as shield screamed, Vyolet raised her sword and cut his head off. The swing of her sword caught the other man, cutting his face. He fell to his knees grabbing onto it and Vyolet quickly pushed her sword through his chest.

Vyolet then remembered they were three plus the big one and heard Hot Pie's cries. The solider block Hot Pie's desperate swing, and threw the boy's sword to the side. He raised then his sword to kill the boy but Vyolet was faster. She extended her arm towards one sword in the grass and the weapon flew, spinning around towards the soldier, cutting his head off clean.

She smiled in relief seeing Hot Pie well, but the moment was short lived. She heard the heavy steps and moved back in time.

"You cunt!" The fat soldier scream swinging her sword at her left and right. Vyolet had to step back quickly. "When I'm done with you, you'll be begging me to kill you!"

Vyolet knew she could never overpowered him so she ran to the trees. Needed something to keep him a bay.

"Come here bitch! I'll fuck you until I'll split you open and then I'll cut you in pieces!"

Vyolet's blood boiled as the soldier followed her closely, but she couldn't lose focus. Vyolet managed to get behind a tree as the soldier swung his sword, hitting the tree trunk just a few inches above Vyolet's head. The swung was so hard it stuck momentary on the wood. Vyolet took advantage of this to hit him. He was still too far and her sword just made a deep cut on his face, but not enough to kill him. Just to enrage him.

The soldier roarer, pulling his sword from the tree and going ballistic at the girl who barely could hide behind the trees, that, unfortunately, were growing apart. Thinking on her feet she pulled out the only dagger she had on close. The poisonous one Jaqen gave her. But as she pulled it out of its sheath, she didn't step back in time and the soldier's sword hit her on her side. Vyolet fell the metal piercing her flesh and the dagger dropped from her hand. Clutching her side with one hand and weakly blocking the man's sword with the other Vyolet tried to place herself behind a tree but she couldn't. With a clang, the soldier knocked the sword out of her hand and Vyolet ran. Wounded and unarmed she needed to get away as fast as she could or get a hold of the fallen dagger. She didn't see where it fell, so she thought about it. About its shape, its form. She thought hard about the dagger flying to the soldier as she ran from the man's sword. With a whoosh the dagger flew to him, but missed him, barely scratching his neck. The soldier screamed but it didn't stop him. Vyolet didn't know how fast the poison would take to kill him, but until then, she would have to keep running or do something more.

Vyolet extended her hand to the dagger again, this time closer and this flew to her opened palm. However as she stepped back from the soldier, she didn't grabbed the handle but the blade.

Vyolet screamed in pain and she tripped. The metal of the blade felt as if it was hot iron. She heard the soldier laughing and looked up as the man towered over her raising his sword.

"It's over, bitch..."

But he hadn't finished talking when the dagger flew from the ground to his eyeball. The fat man stopped talking, his knees bent, and he fell on his back, dropping his sword.

Vyolet let out the breath she had been holding this whole time, closed her eyes, and let herself back to the ground clutching her bleeding hand. It was over. She carefully stood up and walked back to the house looking for Hot Pie. She spotted the boy with a scared face looking for her with a sword on his hand.

"Lady Vyolet!"

Vyolet was about to call him when a body slammed her to a tree. A hand found her throat and hwne she looked up she saw the blond man, the man whose hand she had cut, choking her. She tried to kick, and her hands scratched his, but it was no use. Her vision started to get blurry when suddenly his hand stopped crushing her throat and the man fell dead.

As Vyolet slid down the tree, gasping for air, she saw Hot Pie scared and sweaty.

"Are you okay, m'lady?"

Vyolet nodded, not being able to talk for the moment. Hot Pie helped her stand up and she pushed him to the house. That fight had been anything but silence and who knew who else would be lurking there, waiting to jump on them. Vyolet grabbed a sword before entering the house and shutting the door. Vyolet pushed Hot Pie behind her, and raised her sword, waiting. She prayed the gods for Jaqen, Gendry and Arya to be back soon. She felt ill. Her head pounded, her body felt like it was on fire and she was feeling very sleepy.

Vyolet turned to Hot Pie but the boy was gone and so was the house. She was now in a dark cave. Then with a flicker, a light turned on. They were torches, along the walls lighting up her path. The flames of the torches turned blood red the walls of the cave. Then there was a sound, like a cry, so Vyolet followed it. She walked for what it seemed miles until she reached the end of the cave. There was a big table carved in stone and on top of it was a stone. A blue shiny stone. Maybe a sapphire. But as the girl grew closer she noticed it wasn't a gemstone. It was an egg. And it cracked. Then there was a roar, so deafening Vyolet was sure her ears were bleeding and then she was wrapped in fire.

And someone was calling her name. Screaming her name desperately, but she was at peace among the flames. She felt like she belong there...

Vyolet opened her eyes and the first thing she saw was Jaqen's hands. He was sharpening his knife in that rhythmical soothing way. Vyolet looked away and saw Gendry and Hot Pie sound asleep on the floor. On the table was the silver dagger Jaqen had gave her, the bow she had asked for, her sword and her cloak. And at the foot of her bed, curled like a cat was Arya. Also sleeping.

Vyolet looked up to the Lorathi and found his smirk in place. He looked a bit pale and dark circles under his eyes.

"You look terrible." Vyolet managed to say with a raspy quiet voice.

Jaqen raised an eyebrow.

"Is this the thanks a man gets after saving a lovely girl's life?"

"I think I thanked you yesterday so..."

His smirked grew and he regarded Vyolet with amusement.

"Show me your hand, ungrateful girl."

Vyolet smiled softly back and slowly handled him her wounded hand. It was wrapped now in red cloth. She smiled, remembering Jaqen cleaning her wound. The man took the bandages and looked closely the deep cut. It wasn't bleeding anymore, but it hadn't heal yet. It was red and puffy but the purple had disappeared.

Jaqen nodded pleased.

"The poison had almost left your body. It was quite fast."

Jaqen cleaned again her wound, as he put fresh bandages on her hand. As he did that, Vyolet watched him. His movements were as smooth as careful as ever but his eyes looked tired.

"You didn't sleep, did you Jaqen?"

"A man did. The boy and a man took turns to sleep and watch you, lovely girl. A boy was adamant to be near you and watch your sleep." He raised an eyebrow at her. Vyolet shrugged.

"He's a good friend."

Jaqen placed the back of his hand on Vyolet's forehead. Then he brushed away some hair and let go of her wounded hand.

"A man thinks that's not what a boy is looking for."

Vyolet looked down. at her hand.

"Did you eat?"

"We did, lovely girl."

"Even Arya?"

"The little wolf can be stubborn, but she did eat."

Vyolet smiled and looked at Arya fondly.

"Good."

"Why don't you sleep a little more, lovely girl. It is still early."

Vyolet looked at her hands, biting her lip.

"I-I don't know if I can."

"Did you have nightmares?"

The girl nodded.

"I feel like I haven't slept in days," she told him.

"That's not good. Give a man your hand."

Vyolet looked up at Jaqen frowning confused but handled him her other hand. Jaqen took her hand in his as softly as it could break, and ran his finger over it. Then as if finding a spot, he pressed on it with his thumb lightly. It sent tingles down her body. Vyolet didn't hate it.

"What are you doing?" Vyolet asked confused.

"It's an ancient technique."

"Feels good."

Vyolet admitted, feeling the tingles turning into shivers, feeling as warm water filled her body. Vyolet closed her eyes humming.

"It would help you relax. Sleep, lovely girl. A man is here."

Vyolt didn't respond and it wasn't long until she fell asleep. Jaqen held onto her hand a bit longer. And Gendry saw that. The boy wasn't asleep. He had woke up when he heard Vyolet's voice, but she didn't notice.

* * *

Later that morning, Jaqen woke them up.

"We need to get going," Jaqen told them, as they rose up with yawns and stretching. "We lost a half a day but with the horses we can gain some time."

"We cannot leave," Gendry told him, frowning. "Vyolet is still hurt."

"I'm fine, Gendry," Vyolet said trying to sit up, but failing. Jaqen, who was closer to her, helped her.

"Hells, you are," Gendry replied. "You're pale like a bloody ghost."

Vyolet frowned.

"Thank you."

Gendry opened his eyes and raised his hands.

"No, I-I didn't mean you look bad."

Vyolet laughed softly at the flustered boy.

"I'm fine, Gendry. And Jaqen is right, we can't stay here. Someone could come looking for those soldiers."

Hot Pie went outside to prepare their meal and Gendry and Jaqen to give Vyolet privacy as Arya helped her get dress. Her corset was useless now so she hoped she didn't need it. Arya helped her change bandages, and Vyolet was relieved when she saw the cut on her side had closed and wasn't infected. Then Arya helped her with the dress, and thank the gods it fit well.

"The dress fits without the corset!" Arya said upset as Vyolet walked slowly to the table. "I knew those things were good for nothing."

Vyolet chuckled as she sat down in one of the stools.

"They do have a purpose," Vyolet replied patting her chest. Without the corset the dress actually was lose on that area. "Though I can breath better, I'll give you that."

There was a knock on the door and then Jaqen entered.

"A girl needs eating something or she won't get better," he told her as he helped her to her feet.

"Yes, Septa."

Arya giggled as she followed them and Jaqen smiled at her, shaking his head. He helped Vyolet next to the fire Gendry had built. Hot Pie was cooking rabbit and apples. Vyolet sat onto a fallen tree and noticed all the soldier bodies gone. She had no idea how Jaqen had done that, but she was sure it was him.

"Here."

Vyolet looked up and Jaqen handled her an apple. Vyolet smiled at him.

After they broke their fast, Jaqen recovered six horses. One for him, one for Vyolet, one for Arya, and one for Gendry and Hot Pie since the latter didn't know how to ride. The Lorathi helped Vyolet into the horse as she leaned in a way that it didn't hurt as much and then they left. Jaqen then sold the other two extra horses in a nearby town.

* * *

They reached the Red Fork at midday and after the passed an Inn where they replenished their water-skins. They followed on foot from there, so Vyolet's wound could have a respite. The road ahead of them went into the forest, twisting towards the southwest, where Riverrun was. Jaqen stopped then.

Vyolet, Gendry and Arya stopped as well and looked at him. Arya was the closest to him.

"It's time for a man to leave," he told Arya. "On the other side of this path is a girl's aunt's home."

Arya's face fell.

"You really are leaving?" She said disappointed.

"That was the deal, sweet girl," Jaqen replied bowing his head. "A man has seen a girl off. Now he must go."

Jaqen turned to Vyolet then.

"A girl is free to go with them or with a man."

Vyolet bit her lip and nodded. It was the moment she had been dreading but she had made a choice. Arya's sad eyes burned holes in Vyolet's soul and she felt horrible.

"You're leaving too?"

Vyolet reached for Arya's hand.

"I must, Arya. I'll just cause trouble to your family if I go with you. And I'll cause trouble to mine if I go to them."

Arya felt her eyes burning but she didn't cry. Not she wouldn't anymore.

"Everyone's always leaving me."

"I won't leave you," Vyolet said, squeezing her hand. "Not forever. I promise. I'll see you again."

"Here."

Jaqen handed Arya a coin as she and Vyolet looked up to him confused.

"If a girl must find a man, give this coin to any man from Braavos and say this words, Valar Morghulis."

Arya took the coin, watching it closely and repeated:

"Valar Morgulis."

Jaqen bowed his head.

"Good."

"Come on. What are you waiting for?" Gendry called them. Jaqen turned to him and Hot Pie.

"This is where a man and a girl will leave your group."

"What?"

Gendry turned to Vyolet and the girl nodded, feeling the guilt in her stomach growing.

"Jaqen has to go back to Essos and I'll go with him."

Gendry had a look on his face as she had just hit him.

"But you can't leave."

He walked to her.

"It's not safe for me up North, Gendry. I'm a Lannister."

"Yeah, but you're not like that lot." Gendry shook his head.

"When it's war, that matters little," Vyolet replied with a bitter smile.

Then she turned to Arya. Vyolet knelt in front of the girl and hugged her tight. Arya hugged back and buried her face in Vyolet's curls.

"I promise we'll see each other again," Vyolet replied, clutching Arya's head. And she meant it. By all the gods she would meet Arya and her friends again. She would see her mother and siblings again. By the old and new gods.

After what it felt like a long and short time, Vyolet pulled back from Arya. Then she walked to Hot Pie. She smiled at him.

"Thank you, Hot Pie. I've never thought I would as fed as well while running away."

Hot Pie smiled back at her and nodded.

"Goodbye, Lady Vyolet."

Vyolet leaned and surprised the boy by kissing his chubby dirty cheek. Then she turned to Gendry and hugged him.

"We'll see each other again too?" He asked her as she pulled back, not wanting to let go.

Vyolet smiled sadly.

"Of course. Take care of Arya, will you? I couldn't trust her to anyone else."

Gendry nodded and his arms fell from Vyolet's waist. As she walked back to Jaqen, she gave Arya a last kiss on her forehead. Then, Jaqen hoisted her up in her horse, before climbing onto his. He bowed at Arya.

"Farewell, Arya Stark."

Arya nodded sadly as she watched them leaving. Soon, they disappeared among the trees and they couldn't hear the horses anymore.

* * *

It was dark now. They had made camp in the woods near Wayfarer's Rest. Vyolet had questioned Jaqen of why they didn't go directly to Maidenpool to take a ship to Braavos, but he said he had duties first in Wayfarer's Rest. Vyolet wasn't sure what these duties entailed, but she had a hunch.

Now, however, they had just built a fire. Jaqen had hunt a couple of rabbits and he roasted them while Vyolet gathered water for their water skins, and fed the horses.

"You know, I think I haven't been to Braavos since I was twelve," Vyolet told Jaqen a few hours later, as she sat next to him.

The man turned to the girl with a raised eyebrow.

"Is that so?"

"I liked it." Vyolet nodded. "The beaches near Pentos were beautiful and I have never seen such a blue sea."

"A girl has seen the beautiful parts of the city," Jaqen told her. "Once she starts training, she'll rarely see them."

Vyolet turned to him.

"I'm not scared."

"A man didn't say so."

"You really think I can become a Faceless man, Jaqen?"

"A man thinks so, yes. Otherwise, he wouldn't take a lovely girl with him, would he?"

He gave her a smirk she returned. Then, the man raised a hand to his forehead and his face change just in front of her eyes. Vyolet moved aside startled. Now Jaqen's nose was crooked, his eyes were black and beady, his hair was dark and greasy and when he smiled he had golden teeth.

"What? Jaqen...?"

"Jaqen is dead, lovely girl."

Vyolet leaned to him, watching his face closely.

"How did you do that?"

"You will know once you start your training."

"Will I be able to change my face like that?" Vyolet raised a hand to poke his face and Jaqen caught it.

"If you complete your training, you'll do." He smiled.

"You will keep this face from now on?" Vyolet said frowning as Jaqen let her hand go.

Jaqen rose an eyebrow to her and the girl shrugged.

"I just, I like your other face better."

"It's safer to use a different face."

"Fine, but I'm still calling you Jaqen."

"Jaqen is dead, Vyolet. I am no one."

"I can't call you no one, can I?" Vyolet gave him a look.

"You can call me master. You are to become my apprentice after all."

Vyolet raised her eyebrows.

"Jaqen is fine with me."

The man couldn't help smiling amused.

"We haven't even reach Braavos and you already want to do as you please."

Vyolet's answer was a shrug. He shook his head but she caught him smiling.

"We'll stay here for the night."

Vyolet scrunched up her nose.

"In the open?"

"You don't have to worry, Vyolet. I will protect you," Jaqen assured her. "Not that I expect anyone to cross our paths. What?"

"You even talk different," Vyolet observed. "No more a man and a girl."

"A difference face a different man, lovely girl." Vyolet smiled softly when he used the pet name again. "You have to learn to adapt if you expect to become faceless."

Vyolet pouted.

"I can adapt."

Jaqen smirked at her childish expression.

"You can lie, and very well. I'll give you that. But lying is not the same as becoming someone else. You can say you're a farm girl but I will know the truth. In the different way you pronounce My lord, in your shoulders held straight, instead of the bent ones of the peasants. Small details tell me more about who you are than your words, Vyolet."

The girl bit her lip, thinking of what he had said and after a while, she nodded.

"You're right. Don't get used to me saying that though."

Jaqen rose an eyebrow.

"But I can learn."

"You will learn, lovely girl. You're smart and resourceful enough."

Vyolet nodded and hid a smile. She would. And then, she would return. No one would stop her. Not even Tywin, or Cersei.

* * *

It was a wasteland. Vyolet couldn't see anything but sand and ashes and ruins. The sky shone in shades of red, the sun a searing orb shining down on Vyolet.   


She didn't know where she was or what had happened there. Everything looked burnt. Vyolet didn't know how much she walked, but then she saw something on the corner of her eye. She turned around quickly but she didn't see anything. She was alone. All alone. But her heart was beating faster. She kept walking but she felt it, stalking her, walking behind her. But every time she turned, nothing was there. Vyolet started running, and the steps behind her started running too. No, no, the girl thought. Leave me alone. Leave me alone! Then she hear it. Loud and clear.

 _Vyolet..._

Someone was calling her.

 _Vyolet..._

Who? There was no one around.

 _VYOLET..._

As she turned she saw her shadow rising forming a shape, a woman. A beautiful terrible woman, smiling at Vyolet. The woman's hand went to Vyolet's throat and crushed her throat. Vyolet tried to fight, to scratch the woman off, but it was useless. She was choking, and she knew she was going to die...

 _VYOLET..._

Vyolet woke up with a startle. A man leaned up to her and she screamed, fighting to get away from him and reached her dagger, but his hands, held onto her arms.

"Lovely girl, stop. It's me."

Vyolet finally stopped trashing and looked up breathless. A gold tooth shone in the dark.

"Jaqen?"

The man nodded.

"Sorry, I... I didn't recognize you," Vyolet replied breathless, shuddering.

The man saw her haunted face and stiffed posture, and sighed.

"Fine. I guess it doesn't matter if I wear the Lorathi face again. I don't wish to be stabbed while sleeping."

He ran a hand through his face and Jaqen appeared again. Vyolet seemed a bit calmer. He knelt next to her.

"Is a girl fine?"

Vyolet nodded, soothed by his familiar speech.

"I... I had a nightmare, but... It was odd."

"Odd?"

"Can't really explain where I was but it was dark... I was choking, no. Something was choking me. Then it changed. I heard someone calling me."

"Maybe it was a man."

Vyolet shook his head.

"It wasn't you, Jaqen. It wasn't even the other's face voice..."

Jaqen frowned. He had heard about Targaryens and their prophetic dreams but he couldn't be sure how much this was that and how much was Vyolet's mind replaying the horrors she had lived.

"A girl thinks she can sleep?"

Vyolet shook her head.

"Not really. It's alright. You sleep a bit more. I'll watch no one's coming."

"A man is awake. Maybe we can get a bit farther and reach a town before breakfast."

Jaqen stood up and extended a hand to her. Vyolet nodded and took it.

"Sounds good."

Jaqen helped her up and they packed up their small camp. Jaqen helped Vyolet climb onto her horse and then they kept riding South.

* * *

They reached Wayfarer's Rest before noon. They went first to an inn where Jaqen pay for a room and for two meal. The girl was still hurt so they couldn't risk someone recognizing her since fleeing or fighting would be hard or near impossible.

The broke their fast together in the room, and as Vyolet watched him eat, she got more curious. Since he had said he had a duty to perform, she had not asked anything else but now she wondered.

"What kind of duty you have?"

Jaqen stopped chewing and looked up at Vyolet he swallowed and took a sip of ale before answering.

"I'm going to give the gift on a man," he replied calmly.

"But why that man? Why going to this place?" Vyolet asked her.

"The Red God demands it, lovely girl, and I'm his servant. What the god asks I give."

Vyolet took a sip of water weighing on his words.

"So, when I join the temple the Red God will ask me to kill random people?"

"Not random, sweet girl. The ones who ask for mercy. For the gift. Or the ones he wants to take for himself."

Vyolet nodded but wasn't sure of how to feel about that. She had killed before. Many men in fact. But it had been out of self-defense. She wasn't sure if she would be able to kill an innocent person just because the god demanded it.

They finished their meal in relative silence and then Jaqen changed her bandages. Maybe it was because she was now out of danger, or because that poison wasn't clocking her veins, or maybe because Arya, Gendry and Hot Pie weren't around but Vyolet grew very uncomfortable. She knew the last thing Jaqen was thinking was about her body as she sat naked on the table, only covered by his cloak, but she could help noticing every soft touch, every time he wrapped his arms around her, even his smell. He smelled like spices, like cloves and ginger, and she shouldn't known that. She just hoped he wouldn't hear her rapid heartbeat, since she could nothing about her flushed face. But Jaqen was very professional. He changed her bandages and then helped her back into her shift and dress.

Then he announced it was time for him to go. He took off his armor, put on a cloak and changed his face to that of a thin blond man with a rat's face. He left her alone with her thoughts, about burning cities, shadows lurking behind her, and about cloves and ginger.

* * *

Jaqen's duty didn't take long. Vyolet was surprised to see him back so fast. And was even more surprised when he suggested staying the night in the room.

"The room is already paid." It was Jaqen's reply before he offered her paying for a bath as he was taking one himself. That was another reason why she liked Jaqen better than the gold-toothed man, Vyolet thought as she soaked in a warm bath minutes later. Jaqen was more self conscious with his hygiene.

Vyolet was so relaxed after her bath, she didn't realize there was only one bed in the inn. And the inn itself wasn't great so the bed was rather small. However, Jaqen had just killed a random person and then taken a bath. This wasn't probably a problem in his mind so she didn't want to create want. She didn't want him to think she couldn't handle been a Faceless Man.

Vyolet took off her cloak then, leaving it on a chair and got into the bed with her dress and boots on while Jaqen crouched in front of the fireplace, stoking the fire. And the room was so warm, and her bath had been so good, she fell asleep even before Jaqen had finished preparing the fire.

When the flames were big enough to keep burning without his help, Jaqen stood up and turned to Vyolet. She was curled up in the bed, facing away from him, fast asleep.

Jaqen walked up to the bed and lie down carefully, to not wake her up. He didn't know if she would get upset if he sleep in the same bed as her, but he figure if she had, she would have said something already. Vyolet wasn't the type to just keep her opinions to herself.

Jaqen turned his head and watched her sleep. She looked peaceful. He then thought about what she had told him on that small stone house when she was dying. About being a Targaryen and not knowing for years. There was a saying that every time a Targaryen was born the gods thrown a coin to see if it would be mad or not. But this girl, despite everything happening these past few days, had been level-headed. Perhaps, it wasn't such a crazy idea to take her to Braavos.

Jaqen's thoughts were then interrupted by Vyolet standing up. He was a bit startled since he hadn't heard her waking up, and he couldn't be startled easily. Also, Vyolet was standing there, very still, her back to him. Jaqen frowned.

"Lovely girl...?"

The girl then turned and he saw her eyes were opened, but they were glassy. She looked like she was sleepwalking but Jaqen felt it was something else.

"A spell..."

And as he said that Vyolet walked to the door, opened it and left. Jaqen quickly grabbed their weapons and followed her. Vyolet left the Inn and walked West, towards the mountains and the forest around them.

They walked almost all night. Vyolet leading and Jaqen following behind, making sure no one was waiting for them. The place where Vyolet was taking him was so well hidden, Jaqen wasn't sure he wouldn't have found it on his own. The path was on the side of a slope, covered by trees. And it was so narrow it could barely be considered a road. Finally almost at the bottom, there a heavy wooden double doors. They were covered by ivy and plants, but they were wide open, as if waiting for them. Vyolet, in her trance, continued unfazed by any of this. She walked into a tunnel flanked by lit torches, leading to a patio with columns more torches and giant golden goblets lit with fire. However, the carving in the columns caught Jaqen's attention. They were dragons.

Vyolet stopped in the middle of the patio and seemed to wake up from the trance. Vyolet looked around startled and gasped when saw Jaqen behind her, among the shadows.

"Jaqen? What happened? Where are we?"

"Your nightmares weren't normal dreams, lovely girl," he said walking to her, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword. "They were a spell. They called you here."

Vyolet frowned confused.

"Called me? But who?"

"Us."

Vyolet turned around startled, but Jaqen had seen them already. A group of men and women, all looking pale in black robes walked into the light.

"Mother of Dragons, at last."

* * *

 **Guys again, thank you so much for your wonderful reviews! For reading, liking and following! You're the best. I hope you've liked the new chapter.**


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Born out of Ashes

...

Tywin was furious. He had not only just been angered by Tyrion dared to ask by Casterly Rock, but now he still had to deal with the Starks, their allies and the Greyjoys.

And on top of that, ser Gregor Clegane had arrived alone. Vyolet and Arry the cupbearer, who he suspected to be Arya Stark, had escaped.

"Did I tell you or not those girls were your responsibility?!" Tywin roared at Clegane, once he gave him the news. "Those girls were part of my plans, Clegane, in winning this war."

"Someone help them escape," Clegane told Tywin. "The bitch who was with your niece, her maid, said it was a soldier. Not one of ours. One of the bastards going to the wall."

Tywin stopped passing around his rooms angrily, and turned to ser Clegane.

"You said he was no common assassin."

"And he isn't," the Mountain replied. "The son of a bitch killed ten of my men without anyone noticing. He left them hanging on the wall like fucking cattle so they looked like they were standing. And he left this on one of the guards."

Ser Clegane left a dagger on his desk. It was a cheap dagger, the kind of almost any commoner carried, but around the hilt, there was a silk purple ribbon. And not any kind of purple shade.

"This wasn't him," Tywin told Cleagen. "This was Vyolet's. It's a message for me."

Tywin glared at the dagger and its implication. That brat. He helped her, he fed her and protected her and that's how she paid him? He could have her killed long ago.

"Did you check the forest around Harrenhal?" Tywin asked Clegane.

Ser Clegane nodded.

"I sent my men. One company didn't return. When I went after them, they had been butchered near the Red Fork."

No doubt of that man's work, Tywin thought. It would be useless to go look for the girls now though. Robb Stark was around Harrenhal if he hadn't arrived there yet. Besides, they would be with that man. That assassin that had killed so many of his men in plain sight. He had underestimated Vyolet greatly. He had thought she was like Cersei, with a sharp tongue but subdue to his threats. Not anymore. He may not know where she was, but he knew where her family was. She should have been more careful with her threats and her plans. She should have thought what happened when someone crossed Tywin Lannister.

"They were either going North or to Riverrun," Tywin replied, looking at the dagger. Then he went back to his desk and pulled a new sheet of parchment. "Leave." He dismissed ser Clegane. "And find something actually useful to do."

* * *

The Assahai priests and pristesses walked out of the shadows. Vyolet stepped back, closer to Jaqen. Two of the people stood out the most to Vyolet. One was a man, pale as the moon and bald. He was tall and lean, and his eyes were surrounded by dark circles and his lips were dark. The other was a woman. With white hair and skin as light as snow, a red dress and a peculiar choker made of cast iron and what looked like a ruby.

"Who are you? Why did you bring me here?" She asked them, watching them closely.

"They're Asshai priests," Jaqen told her.

Vyolet turned to him, as the bald man nodded.

"My name is Laedor Taenmaedor, your grace." The man bowed at her and the rest followed him. Vyolet watched them uncomfortable, both at being refferred like that and because she was still waiting for someone to jump and attack them.

"We came to Westeros many years ago, when your family was on the throne," Laedor continued. "But we were too late. The Targaryens were butchered by the Ursuper and we were forced to live hidden all these years, waiting for the children of Aerys to come home, to come to us, and you have Vyolet."

There was murmuring behind him, agreeing with his statement.

"That doesn't answer my question," Vyolet replied firmly. "Why did you bring me here?"

This time the blonde woman spoke.

"Why, because your child needs you, your grace."

Vyolet turned to her, frowning in shock.

"My child...? No, that's impossible. I don't have a child."

The woman smiled sweetly at her and extended a hand for Vyolet to take. Vyolet stared at her hand with apprehension. One part of her, the rational one probably, wanted to grab Jaqen and ran away as fast as they could. But the other, the stronger one at this moment, was telling her there was some truth to the words of these people. She had a feeling in the deep of her stomach that urged her forward. Somehow she felt like she had been in this place before, and she needed to go with them, for the moment being.

Vyolet slowly took her hand and let herself be led, through this underground maze where the orange lights are mesmerizing.

Jaqen's voice brought her back.

"Let me through," he said calmly and coldly, but there's a dangerous threath to his voice barely hidden. Vyolet stopped and turned around.

One of the priests had stopped Jaqen from following them.

"He's with me. It's alright," Vyolet told them firmly.

The blonde woman turned to her.

"You're with a faceless man from Braavos?"

Vyolet turned to her and let go of her hand.

"He is a friend. He has been loyal to me."

Vyolet held the woman's stare firmly, ready to go back to Jaqen and fought her way back if necessary.

The woman slowly smiled and nodded. The priests stepped aside, letting Jaqen walked through.

"Very well. This way, your grace."

The woman turned around and kept walking, but Vyolet waited until Jaqen reached her. Once beside her, she took his hand, before following the woman. She knew the Asshais were magicians or tricksters and didn't want them to get rid of Jaqen somehow. She didn't want to be left alone in the dark.

The corridor was long and wide. It had doors on its sides and openings leading to other dark corridors. Carvings of dragons and fire adorned the walls and the orange light of the torches cast shadows on them, making them grotesque.

The long corridor ends in big red doors. The priests surrounded Vyolet and Jaqen and rushed to open the doors. There's a fire burning already inside.

The blond woman stepped inside and Vyolet followed her. This room was bigger than the courtyard. The ceiling is so high she couldn't see it and there were banners in the walls. There are black ones with the Targaryen sigil on them in red. But there were also white ones with a heart surrounded by flames. At the end of the room however, there is a small stone table. And beyond that, it's a pyre of wood as tall that could be a funeral pyre.

The blonde woman walked to the table and then turned around to see Vyolet. The girl swallowed before following her, clutching Jaqen's hand for dear life.

In the table, there was a red velvet cushion, and on top of that, there was a gem. It looked like a sapphire but bigger. And as Vyolet stood in front of it, she realized it wasn't a gem. She looked at it in awe.

"That's..."

"A dragon egg," the woman replied with a smile and nodded. "Hardened by time. Turned to a rock. But we know your sister has hatched three."

Vyolet frowned confused one more, looking at the woman.

"My sister?"

"Daenerys Targaryen. The Lord of Light showed us her dragons and showed us yours, your grace. It's time."

Vyolet shook her head.

"But I... I am not a real Targaryen. My mother..."

"Regardless of who your mother was, you're a dragon. Your child is calling to you. Can you hear it?"

Vyolet turned to the egg once more. She couldn't explain it, but she felt like she had seen this egg before. Like a forgotten memory in her head. She let go of Jaqen's hand an reached for the egg. It was hard as a rock and had scales on the outside but it was beautiful. It shone with several shades of blue as if it were covered with sapphires. She gently cupped it and raised it, closer to her face. It was warm. It had a certain warmth to it and she could feel a beat. A heart, racing. Maybe it was just hers.

"How would I do this?" She asked them, mesmerized by the egg.

"You will need fire," Laedor told her. The woman smiled at her.

"And blood,"

* * *

Tywin called for a meeting with the council. He had changed rooms to one grander and closer to his rooms. Tywin stood at the head of the table when Maester Pycelle, lord Baelish, and Lord Varys entered. They noticed the table had five chairs on the same side of the table and waited for Tywin to speak but he didn't.

Then steps rang on the corridor and Tyrion appeared. Tywin stared down at his son and the council before sitting at the head of the table.

Lord Varys nodded and walked to the table but Lord Baelish was faster, walking around him to sit on Tywin's left hand. Varys gave him a look before sitting next to him and Pycelle sat on his left side. Only Tyrion remained standing.

Cersei walked at that moment and Tyrion glanced up at her, amused. Waiting for her reaction or the council. Cersei just smirked down. She walked to the chair next to Pycelle, she lifted it off the ground and took it to the empty spot on the right side of his father.

Once everyone sat, they stared at Tyrion who then walked to the only empty chair and dragged it to the other end of the table, creating the most annoying and obnoxious of noise.

Then he sat with a small smile and looked around like he was really pleased with the room.

"Intimate. Lovely table. Better chairs than the old small council chamber," he told his father with fake flattery. "Conveniently close to your own quarters. I like it."

Tywin and Cersei glared at him, Varys suppressed a smile, while the other two men looked at him aghast.

Tywin ignored him and turned to the lords.

"What news of Jaime?" He asked was no answer.

"Twenty thousand unwashed Northerns have known about his escape for weeks. Collectively, you control more spies and informants than the rest of the world combined. Do you mean to tell me that none of you has any notion of where he is?"

"We are trying, my lord," Varys replied apologetically.

"Try harder." Tywin's booming voice rang across the room.

Varys bowed his head.

"What about Vyolet?" Tywin kept going. "Any news on her?"

"I'm afraid not, my lord," Varys responded again. "Whoever is with her, knows how to keep the girl out of sight."

Tywin was even angrier. He couldn't trust any of these men with the information of her true father or that Arya Stark may have escaped with her.

"What do we have, then?"Tywin glared at the lords.

"Robb Stark and most of his bannermen are in Riverrun for the funeral of his grandfather, Lord Hoster Tully," Varys spoke once again. "In Stark's absence, Roose Bolton holds Harrenhal, which would seem to make him Lord of Harrenhal, - in practice if not in name."

Lord Baelish's smile stretched at Vary's words but acted like they didn't sting him.

"Well, let him have it," Tywin replied. "The name suits our purposes far more than that useless pile of rubble. The Lord of Harrenhal will make a worthy suitor for the widow Arryn."

Tywin turned to Baelish who bowed his head.

"For which I am extremely grateful to you, my lord. Lady Arryn and I have known each other since we were children. She has always been positively predisposed toward me."

"A successful courtship would make Lord Baelish acting Lord of the Vale," Pycelle intervened.

"Titles do seem to breed titles," Baelish replied with a smile.

"You'll leave for the Eyrie as soon as possible and bring Lysa Arryn into the fold," Tywin told Baelish. "Then the young wolf can add his own aunt to the list of people who have taken up arms against him."

Tyrion gave his father a look before intervening:

"Far be it from me to hinder true love, but Lord Baelish's absence would present certain problems. The royal wedding may end up being the most expensive event in living memory." Varys nodded his head while Cersei pursed her lips as if she had just tasted something foul. "Summer has ended, hard days lie ahead. Not a good time to leave the crown's finances unattended."

"Fully agreed," Tywin replied to the surprise of Tyrion and everyone else present. "Which is why I'm naming you new Master of Coin."

Tyrion gave him an incredulous look, while Cersei chuckled.

"Master of Coin?"

"It would appear to be a position that best suits your talents," said Tywin.

"I'm quite good at spending money, but a lifetime of outrageous wealth hasn't taught me much about managing it," Tyrion replied exasperated.

"I have no doubt you will prove equal to this challenge," Cersei told him sarcastically.

Pycelle smaked the table with his hand, gladly to see Tyrion squirm.

"Hear, hear."

* * *

As they took them through a corridor, Vyolet realized there were more people in this place that she imagined. Other priests or servants would make aside to let them pass and bowed to her, mumbling in Valyrian.

"Blood of my blood."

"Blood of my blood."

"I apologized for bringing you here at this hour so late," Laedor told Vyolet. Her hand once again was clutching Jaqen's tightly. "But you're child have longed for you for so long."

"I understand," Vyolet assured him with a smile.

"We'll bring you a meal so you can rest," the woman called Vaesa told them. "And tomorrow we'll start the ceremony when night falls."

Vyolet nodded. She wondered how Jaqen felt about that. He had told her several times that after he completed his duty, they had to part to Essos. And the ceremony would take a day from them. If he was bothered by this, he didn't show it. In fact, it scared her almost how little he showed. His face was blank of emotions and he followed her without a word.

Finally, they reached a door. A servant opened it with a bow and the led Vyolet inside. It was a big and comfortable room with a hearth, a big bed, rugs, and chairs. The only thing that bothered Vyolet it wasn't the lack of light. The torches only gave so much light, and the fact that there weren't windows were starting to make her feel claustrophobic.

Vyolet stepped inside but marveled a bit when she realized how elegant the room was. How thay managed to get such rich furniture and fabrics while being hidden from the world, it was beyond her.

"These are your rooms, your grace," replied the servant, bowing to the girl and then turning to Jaqen. "If you follow me, sir. I'll show you yours."

"No, my husband shall stay with me," Vyolet declared quickly with a tone that left no room for arguments.

If Jaqen was surprised or taken away by her lie, he didn't show it. In fact, the ones taken aback were the priests, probably by her hasty response. They exchanged a look among them as the servant flustered.

"Oh, I apologize, your grace. You didn't mention..."

Vyolet smiled to reassure the poor boy.

"I wasn't sure if I could trust you. I am sure now."

Laedor bowed to her.

"You honor us, your grace."

"We'll bring your meal shortly," Vaesa replied. "I hope you find your rooms most comfortable."

"They are. Thank you for your hospitality," Vyolet thanked them with a charming and polite smile.

The party of priests and servants bowed one last time, before leaving the room.

When the door closed behind them, Vyolet opened her mouth but Jaqen was faster. He crossed the room with quick strides and pulled her to him, tucking her head on his neck. Vyolet didn't speak, taken aback but then heard Jaqen's whisper in her ear:

"They're still watching us, lovely girl," he said pulling her tighter as a husband in love with his wife would. She understood then. Vyolet buried her face closer to his neck, playing along.

"In here?" She asked.

"I can see two holes," Jaqen said, spying above the girl's head. "One near the fire place, other above the chair. I'll take care of those."

Vyolet gently pulled back and looked up at Jaqen. His face was so close she could smell the ginger and cloves on his breath.

"Do you think we're safe, Jaqen?" She asked him in a whisper so low she wondered if he heard her. Jaqen placed a strand of her behind her ear but gave her a dark look.

"A lovely girl already knows the answer."

* * *

As they waited for their meal. Jaqen covered the spyholes in the wall. He then sat next to her, staring at furniture or a certain wall, before crossing the room and finding another. He covered six. And Vyolet was at the edge by the time they brought them their food. Jaqen smelled it first and then made the servant boy taste a bit of everything.

Vyolet tried to protest since it was just a small boy, but it was necessary. They ate in silence and then a servant girl came in to help Vyolet out of her clothes. She blushed as she changed in front of Jaqen but there was no way she was sending him out of her sight. Something in this place felt terribly off.

The servant girl then lighted the fire place and took away their tray. Once alone, Vyolet could breath a bit better but that horrible sensation of waiting for something terrible to happen didn't go away.

Vyolet sat on the middle bed, hugging her knees as she watched Jaqen getting ready. She checked all the peepholes, making sure they were covered, he locked the door and made sure it wouldn't bulge, then placed their swords on the floor, on the other side of the bed, and gave Vyolet the silver dagger, telling her to keep it close so she could reach it if they needed too.

Vyolet then noticed Jaqen wasn't wearing the Lannister armor anymore.

"Your armor," she said as Jaqen took away his black leather gambeson.

"Back at the inn," Jaqen replied folding the piece of clothing neatly and leaving it on a table near by. "We'll have to go back to retrieve them."

Vyolet nodded.

Jaqen then sat next to her, taking off his boots, looking at her discretely. Last night they had shared a bed as well but she was fast asleep by the time he laid down next to her. Now it was different, but she didn't say anything again. In fact, she moved aside so Jaqen could lay down under the covers.

She sat there for a moment, watching the fire creeping on the hearth in front of them. Jaqen glanced at her before taking in the walls and furniture again, making sure he hadn't missed another peephole.

Vyolet then surprised him a little by laying down her head on his chest. He didn't move nor said anything. The girl then looked up, her face trying to conceal the fear she was feeling.

"Is this alright?" She asked him, her voice almost a whisper. "I don't think I can't sleep otherwise."

He felt her trembled and he nodded, his arms surrounding her.

"Sleep, lovely girl. A man is here."

Vyolet buried her face in his chest, her hand clasping his shirt on her fist.

"I have a bad feeling, Jaqen," she told him. "My nightmares had not been only about that spell, about someone calling me."

He felt her trembling again and he ran his hand through her curls.

"What have you dreamed about, lovely girl?"

Vyolet stared ahead at the flames.

"Ashes."

* * *

Meralith peered out her window for what like felt the umpteenth time. She stared outside strong enough, willing her lost daughter to appear. She prayed day and night to the gods for a sign Vyolet was alive and well. She hoped to see a horse, a raven, a message from the Spider. Anything was better than this uncertainty.

"M'lady, you need to eat," Esthis told her mistress. The old woman worried as well. She felt guilty because she didn't follow Vyolet, but the least she could do, was to assure the girl's mother was alive and well.

"It's been weeks, Esthis," Meralith said, wrinkling her hands. "Varys said she was traveling with the Night's Watch. She should be here by now. Something happened to her, I know. And Tywin was in Harrenhal not long ago. Maybe they crossed paths."

"Then her uncle will protect Vyolet."

Meralith shook her head.

"If they crossed paths, I know my daughter it's not safe."

She turned to the old woman.

"They know, Esthis. They know about Vyolet's father. And you know what happened to the Targaryen children under Tywin's orders."

Meralith's voice broke and she closed her eyes.

"We need to find her. Warn her. But how?"

* * *

When Vyolet woke up, she sighed feeling she had actually rested. Her muscles didn't felt strain anymore and she even let out a loud and long yawn. She then heard a laugh and the chest her head was resting on shook.

"Oh, shut up," Vyolet replied smacking Jaqen's chest before rolling to her back and stretching her arms and legs letting out another yawn. When she opened her eyes she found Jaqen, leaning on his arm, looking down at her with an amused smile.

Vyolet shrugged but blushed lightly.

"I haven't had a good sleep in a long time."

"A girl had a feather bed in Harrenhal if a man remembers correctly," Jaqen said.

"Yes, and every time I sleep on it I didn't know if I would wake up," Vyolet replied.

Jaqen rose an eyebrow.

"A man fails to see how this is different from Harrenhal."

Vyolet looked away.

"You weren't with me at Harrenhal. Not at night when I tried to sleep."

She didn't wait for Jaqen to answer before throwing the covers away and standing up, stretching again. The man watched her as she crossed the room to a table with a pitcher and two cups. She poured water on one and took it to her nose, probably looking for poison.

Jaqen couldn't help smiling, knowing she wouldn't know how to tell either way, but admiring her quick thinking. She kept surprising him, since the day they've met. He thought she was just a runaway high-born girl. A dumb child who didn't realize how good her life was compared to the rest, but that wasn't the case. She was smart and resourceful. She could be child-like one moment and fierce the other. When she charged in that open field against the soldiers who clearly outnumbered he couldn't help but marvel and laugh. She also amused him greatly.

Jaqen stood up and walked to her. Vyolet turned to him handing him the cup.

"I can't really tell if there's something in the water," she admitted reluctantly.

Jaqen smirked, taking the cup and watched the water. He then smelled it, before taking a big gulp.

"Hey!" Vyolet exclaimed, indignantly, trying to take the cup away, but Jaqen turned, gulping down every single drop. He only let her take the cup once it was empty.

"It seems it is clean, lovely girl," he said teasingly. Vyolet just glared at him.

"Arse," she mumbled as she poured more water into the cup.

"Not very lady-like, lovely girl."

Vyolet glared at him over her cup.

"You know, you shouldn't annoy someone who can move things with her mind. Who knows, a dagger could fly to your stupid eye."

His booming laugh just annoyed her more, but she hid her smile as she drank her water. She had never heard him laughing so hard. He usually just smirked.

The moment was cut short by a knock on the door. Vyolet pulled down her cup and Jaqen retrieved his dagger.

"Yes?"

"It's me, m'lord. I bring you your meal."

Vyolet gave Jaqen a look who nodded at the bed. On the side on the floor, there were their swords. Vyolet quickly hid them beneath the mattress. When she was done, Jaqen opened the door carefully. He saw it was just a serving girl so he let her in. Vyolet noticed the girl and all the other servants wore black clothing.

The girl crossed the room carrying a big silver tray that she laid on a table.

"I'll be back shortly to help you dress, your grace," the girl told Vyolet bowing.

Vyolet smiled at her and nodded.

The girl then left the room.

Vyolet frowned and walked to the table, but Jaqen was closer. He cut pieces bringing them to his nose, inspecting everything from the wine to the quail and berries. When he was done he nodded to Vyolet and moved the chair so she could sit.

"They keep calling me 'your grace'," Vyolet told Jaqen as the broke their fast. "It's weird, isn't it?"

Jaqen didn't reply right away. He took a gulp of wine and then stared at the door for a moment, before looking back at Vyolet.

"I think it would be best if we leave, lovely girl."

He let out the part that he didn't like the way the look at her or at him, for that matter.

"But, they say I could hatch a dragon." Vyolet smiled and shook her head. "A dragon, Jaqen."

"No one has seen a dragon in hundreds of years, lovely girl," Jaqen replied softly, wiping his mouth thoroughly before taking a sip of wine. "That egg is no more alive than a rock."

"They said Daenerys Targaryen hatched three dragons," Vyolet insisted. "I'm Targaryen, well, half Targaryen and I do not burn. Don't you think it's possible I could hatch a dragon?"

Jaqen sighed and looked at Vyolet.

"It is possible, yes. It is also possible these people try to kill us the longer we stay, lovely girl. Assahai priests do blood magic and shadow-binding. A man has never seen a good outcome out of those things."

Vyolet nodded and bit her lip but she wasn't convinced. She didn't trust these people either, but she had a connection to that egg. And her dreams couldn't be a coincidence, could they? The egg was blue... just like the dragons in her dreams.

"How are your wounds, lovely girl?" Jaqen asked her, interrupting her musings. "Do they still hurt?"

Vyolet shook her head.

"No, but I haven't checked them since you did, yesterday."

Jaqen then extended a hand and Vyolet gave him her wounded one. The Lorathi took away the bandages softly and exterminated the long cut.

It was closed now but the wound was still a shiny red, and it stung a little when Vyolet opened her palm completely. Jaqen probed gently the wound with his warm hands as Vyolet watched his face closely. She guessed if there was something wrong he would see it already.

Finally, Jaqen nodded.

"It's healing properly and fast," he said pleased. "Maybe we should ask if they have a maester. It would be better for a girl to have clean bandages."

Vyolet nodded, enjoying the soothing sensation of his hand rubbing her palm. Wherever his thumbs grazed and pressed, it sent a rush of fire and shivers down her body. She figured it was another technique of his, like the one he used to help her sleep. Or maybe it was the warm of his hand. How he managed to stay warm, she wondered. His skin was always warm.

Her musings were interrupted by a knock on the door. Vyolet quickly retrieved her hand from his, blushing lightly, as a servant girl entered, bowing to them.

"Your grace, your bath will be ready in a few short moments," she informed Vyolet, who frowned confused.

"My bath?"

"Well, I just assume, your grace, would enjoy a bath after being on the road for long."

Vyolet nodded, smiling.

"Yes, that would be nice."

The girl smiled pleased as she gathered their empty plates on the tray to take them away.

"Hum, do you happen to have a master?"

The girl stopped and looked at Vyolet concerned.

"Is your grace hurt?"

"It's just a few cuts," Vyolet reassured her, gently. "They are already closed but I think it would be best if someone could see them."

The girl nodded.

"I'll send him right away, your grace," the girl replied, taking away the tray and leaving them alone.

Vyolet smile, thinking of a steaming bath and taking her cup took a sip of wine. She turned to Jaqen who was looking at her, displeased.

"What?"

"A bath? We should leave, lovely girl."

"Oh, come on." Vyolet pouted. "You're just jealous they didn't offer you one."

Jaqen raised an eyebrow and his mouth curled into a smirk, as Vyolet took another sip of wine.

"Maybe they expect a man to share with a girl since she's his wife."

Vyolet almost choked at that.

"Well, you aren't going near my bath, Jaqen," she replied with a glare, hitting her chest while she coughed.

Jaqen smirked, amused at her reaction. How she could be this prude after spending who knew how many nights sleeping in the ground next to him, was beyond him? But she looked adorable all flushed and embarrassed.

"Don't you trust a man?" He asked with a teasing smile.

Vyolet glared at him.

"It is not a matter of trust!"

"It's not like a man hasn't seen a girl's bare body before."

Her face was now red as an apple.

"You said you didn't look!"

"A girl never asked what a man may or may not have noticed."

Vyolet was seriously considering of retrieving her dagger when a knock on the door interrupted them once again. Their maester was an Asshai priest, with grey hair and beard and the same black tunic.

He examined Vyolet's wound quickly and efficient under her and Jaqen's scrutinizing gaze. If he noticed Vyolet was being manhandled he would quickly dispose of the man. But there was no need. The maester left bandages, for after Vyolet had her bath and then left the room. Then a bathtub was brought into the room. As they filled it with hot water and they lighted the fire on the hearth, Vyolet asked for a second bathtub. For all the time she had spent with Jaqen, she didn't know much about him but this. He loved being clean. He loved baths. And true, he had been annoying her but he had also had protected her fiercely it was the least she could do.

Jaqen smiled at her when he heard her request and advert his eyes respectfully when Vyolet undressed to get into the water. Another bathtub was brought placed beside the one Vyolet was in. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared hard into the water, avoiding seeing Jaqen. Her curiosity wanted to steal a glance, but he would know, she was sure. Then, he would never leave her alone.

Only once he was settled, Vyolet looked up. He gave her a grateful smile, as he leaned back into the hot water with a sight. Two servants girls washed their hair. Vyolet loved the sensation of hot water on her scalp while soft finger rubbed her head, but she found her peace interrupted by giggles and laughs.

She opened her eyes and saw the other girl laughing and flirting with Jaqen. As she washed his hair, he would lean back, whispering things to the girl, sending into her into laughing fits.

Vyolet pursed her lips upset. She hadn't wanted to part with Jaqen because these people used magic and couldn't be trusted, but now she wished she had asked for different rooms, at least for the baths.

She closed her eyes and tried to focus again in the soothing sensation of the water and the massage but those giggles we're getting on her nerves. She thought briefly of splashing her with a good quantity of water. That would shut her up. But Jaqen would know it was her, and he would be annoying. He would tease her about caring about that foolish girl flirting with him and she didn't.

She didn't care at all. In fact, she would help him in spending more time with this girl because Vyolet wasn't leaving without her dragon. Screw Jaqen and his plan.

* * *

Cersei watched her father writing for what it seemed hours. She felt angry and impatient, but her father was the only person Cersei couldn't command over. So she waited.

She soft roosh of the quill on the paper was driving her crazy. How many letters has Tywin written already?

Finally, he spoke. He didn't stop writing, he barely glanced at her.

"You wanted to speak to me?"

"Yes, about Jaime," Cersei replied softly.

"What about him?"

"I wanted to make sure we're doing everything we can to get him back," said Cersei fidgeting, unnerved.

That made Tywin stopped. He looked up indignantly at Cersei as she had just slapped him.

"When Catelyn Stark took Tyrion prisoner, what did I do in response?" He asked her, pouring sand over the letter to dry the ink. Then he blew the sand away.

"You started a war," Cersei responded softly.

Tywin looked away, folding the letter.

"And if I would start a war for that lecherous little stump," he said pouring red wax over the letter, "what do you think I am doing for my oldest son and heir?"

"Whatever you can," Cersei responded, a bit taken away, but still upset.

Tywin looked at her coldly taking the Hand's seal.

"Whatever I can," he agreed before stamping the wax with his seal.

Then Tywin put the letter away and took another piece of parchment. Cersei didn't move.

"You're still here," said he.

"Yes."

"Why?"

He started writing.

"Did it ever occur to you that I might be the one who deserves your confidence and your trust, not your sons?" Cersei replied poisonously, with an angry glare. "Not Jaime or Tyrion, but me. Years and years of lectures on family and legacy," she buffed. "The same lecture, really, just with tiny, tedious variations. Did it ever occur to you that your daughter might be the only one listening to them? Living by them? That she might have the most to contribute to your legacy that you love so much more than your actual children?"

Tywin poured sand on the ink and then blew it away.

"All right," he replied sitting back and looking up at his daughter. "Contribute."

"The Tyrells are a problem," said Cersei angrily.

"The Tyrells helped us defeat Stannis Baratheon," Tywin corrected her. "The Tyrells saved your life, your children's lives."

"Margaery has her claws in Joffrey," Cersei admitted. "She knows how to manipulate him."

But Tywin saw through her and he didn't care about his daughter's petty feelings.

"Good," he replied harshly. "I wish you knew how to manipulate him."

Cersei looked up at him angrily and indignantly.

"I don't distrust you because you're a woman," Tywin told her coldly. "I distrust you because you're not as smart as you think you are. You've allowed that boy to ride roughshod over you and everyone else in this city."

Now Cersei was the one looking like she had just been slapped. She had once, by Robert. Her father insult burnt deeper.

"Perhaps you should try stopping him from doing what he likes," Cersei told her father, her voice low and soft and dangerous.

Tywin looked up from his writing.

"I will."

Cersei left after this, leaving him angry and exasperated. He didn't have time for her envy with Jaime being lost while Robb Stark was still playing at war. He had come up with a solution thought. He had still more letters to write but it would be worthy he would end the war with two letters. One to Walder Frey and one to Roose Bolton. There was just one more letter. This was a hard one for him to write because Tywin valued family over everything else. Not because they were particularly useful like his own children prove over and over, but because a united house, was a strong house. So it was hard for him to order the execution of his own. But Vyolet had proven quite difficult to handle, and with rumors of Daenerys Targaryen hatching dragons, he couldn't allow that girl to get her hands on one.

* * *

When Vyolet finished bathing she was giving a linen sheet and helped out of the bathtub. She sat in front of the lit fireplace, her back to Jaqen, as the servant girl styled her hair by twisting locks of her and pinning them up. Then the girl helped Vyolet into a beautiful black dress. It was made of soft silk and ran smoothly to the ground. It has scarlet red embroidery and golden dragon brooches holding the dress up on her shoulders.

"It's really beautiful," Vyolet said touching the soft dress, watching herself in the mirror. She had never worn such style of dress or so revealing.

"It's your house colors, your grace," the servant girl replied with a smile, tying a gold necklace around Vyolet's neck. "We thought you'll like it."

"I do."

Vyolet caressed the necklace with a hand. The fire from the hearth reflected on it and made it look like a strand of fire around her neck. Vyolet smiled and turned to the girl.

"Thank you."

She caught also Jaqen's stare behind the serving girl. He had gotten out of the bath and had a linen around his waist while he dried his hair with the other. The giggling girl was trying to dress him, but he just dismissed her.

Vyolet hid a smile as he went behind the screen to change.

There was a knock on the door and at Vyolet's nod, one of the girls opened the door and bowed.

It was Laedor, Vaesa and another two priests. They bowed deeply to Vyolet and again the girl felt awkward but strangely pleased.

"I hope your grace had a good night, and had found her rooms pleasing," Vaesa told Vyolet who smiled and nodded.

"I did, thank you."

"If I'm permitted, your grace looks radiant." Laedor bowed lightly at her and smiled. "Your grace looks like the Targaryen she is."

Vyolet smiled, again a mix between taken aback and feeling pleased.

"We were thinking, your grace would like to see this place."

Vyolet bit her lip and nodded. She knew Jaqen was eager to leave but she wanted her dragon, and the ceremony was until night had fallen.

"That would be lovely."

Laedor and Vaesa smiled and the priest stepped to her offering her his arm.

"That's alright. A man will walk with his wife." Jaqen's voice interrupted. Vyolet didn't look up to him. She didn't need to, to know he was angry with her. She accepted his arm and he clasped a strong hand over hers. A reminder he knew what she was doing and he was upset with her.

Vyolet glanced at Jaqen who gave her an angry look despite her innocent confused expression. He knew better.

He had dressed quite quickly, Vyolet also noticed. His ... was crooked, but she didin't dare to help him. At least not right now.

Laedor, Vaesa and the priests took them through the underground place. It was more a labyrinth, and Vyolet was sure that if she walked those corridors alone, she would be lost forever.

"Have someone ever discovered you?" Vyolet asked them as they walked.

"Some people have stumbled upon us, your grace," Vaesa replied with a nod, acknowledging her. "We feed them, we help them. And in turn, they've decided to stay, waiting for your return."

"How you were so sure I was coming?" Vyolet asked them, frowning confused. "I didn't even know my father was Aerys Targaryen until a year ago."

"The Lord of Light showed us your face, your grace," Vaesa replied. "He showed us all the wonderful things you'll do."

"The Lord of Light?"

Vaesa nodded.

"And the Lord of Light showed you my... dragon?" Vyolet kept asking.

"Dragons, your grace," Vaesa replied, turning to her with a smile. "We only posses one egg, unfortunately. But soon, your other child will call you as well."

* * *

Cersei watched her father writing for what it seemed hours. She felt angry and impatient, but her father was the only person Cersei couldn't command over. So she waited.

She soft roosh of the quill on the paper was driving her crazy. How many letters has Tywin written already?

Finally, he spoke. He didn't stop writing, he barely glanced at her.

"You wanted to speak to me?"

"Yes, about Jaime," Cersei replied softly.

"What about him?"

"I wanted to make sure we're doing everything we can to get him back," said Cersei fidgeting, unnerved.

That made Tywin stopped. He looked up indignantly at Cersei as she had just slapped him.

"When Catelyn Stark took Tyrion prisoner, what did I do in response?" He asked her, pouring sand over the letter to dry the ink. Then he blew the sand away.

"You started a war," Cersei responded softly.

Tywin looked away, folding the letter.

"And if I would start a war for that lecherous little stump," he said pouring red wax over the letter, "what do you think I am doing for my oldest son and heir?"

"Whatever you can," Cersei responded, a bit taken away, but still upset.

Tywin looked at her coldly taking the Hand's seal.

"Whatever I can," he agreed before stamping the wax with his seal.

Then, Tywin put the letter away and took another piece of parchment. Cersei didn't move.

"You're still here," said he.

"Yes."

"Why?"

He started writing.

"Did it ever occur to you that I might be the one who deserves your confidence and your trust, not your sons?" Cersei replied poisonously, with an angry glare. "Not Jaime or Tyrion, but me. Years and years of lectures on family and legacy," she buffed. "The same lecture, really, just with tiny, tedious variations. Did it ever occur to you that your daughter might be the only one listening to them? Living by them? That she might have the most to contribute to your legacy that you love so much more than your actual children?"

Tywin poured sand on the ink and then blew it away.

"All right," he replied sitting back and looking up at his daughter. "Contribute."

"The Tyrells are a problem," said Cersei angrily.

"The Tyrells helped us defeat Stannis Baratheon," Tywin corrected her. "The Tyrells saved your life, your children's lives."

"Margaery has her claws in Joffrey," Cersei admitted. "She knows how to manipulate him."

But Tywin saw through her and he didn't care about his daughter's petty feelings.

"Good," he replied harshly. "I wish you knew how to manipulate him."

Cersei looked up at him angrily and indignantly.

"I don't distrust you because you're a woman," Tywin told her coldly. "I distrust you because you're not as smart as you think you are. You've allowed that boy to ride roughshod over you and everyone else in this city."

Now Cersei was the one looking like she had just been slapped. She had once, by Robert. Her father insult burnt deeper.

"Perhaps you should try stopping him from doing what he likes," Cersei told her father, her voice low and soft and dangerous.

Tywin looked up from his writing.

"I will."

Cersei left after this, leaving him angry and exasperated. He didn't have time for her envy with Jaime being lost while Robb Stark was still playing at war. He had come up with a solution thought. He had still more letters to write but it would be worthy he would end the war with two letters. One to Walder Frey and one to Roose Bolton. There was just one more letter. This was a hard one for him to write because Tywin valued family over everything else. Not because they were particularly useful like his own children prove over and over, but because a united house, was a strong house. So it was hard for him to order the execution of his own. But Vyolet had proven quite difficult to handle, and with rumors of Daenerys Targaryen hatching dragons, he couldn't allow that girl to get her hands on one.

* * *

Laedor, Vaesa and the priests took them everywhere. They had stables, kitchens, places of worship, rooms large enough where they made clothes, baths, courtyards... anything a functional castle would have, but all underground. Jaqen was taking into every single detail, every carving in the wall, every noise, every smell, everything that could help them snuck out of this labyrinth if needed.

He was still upset with Vyolet. She had cost them much more time and she did it on purpose. He knew she desired a dragon. He saw it on her eyes when she first lied eyes on the dragon egg. But Jaqen had crossed the followers of the Red God many times, to know they didn't do anything out of the kindness of their hearts. They said that to hatch the dragon fire and blood was needed. But whose blood? Jaqen was certain the answer was Vyolet's. And he wouldn't let them hurt her. Not because he cared for Vyolet, a man was no one, and no one didn't have feelings, but because the order wanted her. He didn't know why, but enough so they would forgive his desertion to a new mission in the citadel, in favor of bringing her to Braavos. And that was the extent of his relationship with her, he thought. Just a messenger, bringing a gift. And maybe later a master and an apprentice. Nothing more.

He could almost felt the painful and stinging blow of the staff on his skin and a voice whispering: _lie_ on his ear. _You lie_ , the voice said. Didn't he sacrifice his last dose of antidote for her?

He needed her alive, he reasoned coldly. That was the only reason why he saved her. A Lannister girl wasn't worth nothing to him, a Targaryen did. Just so.

 _Lie._ Wasn't he glad and relieved she had survived? Even if she was a tool for him, he shouldn't care about her well-being but he did. He worried about her wounds, about her nightmares. He cared. And no one should not care. No one should have left Vyolet when she asked him to go to the Riverlands to deliver Arya, no one should have left her when she left the inn, victim of a spell. No one should have left her to her fate in Harrenhal. But he didn't.

It's just the face, he reasoned. It's Jaqen H'ghar who cares not me. It's Jaqen who mourned when he thought Vyolet would die, not him. It was Jaqen who helped her over and over. It was the Lorathi whose heart beat a bit faster because Vyolet placed her head on his chest and fell asleep on his arm. It was Jaqen who had seared in his memory the shape of her bare legs and white back. It was the weak man. And he didn't care. He just wanted her. He lusted for her. It was just a simple and unfortunate human need. But once a man would shed that face, everything would be over. The feelings would be gone. And he longed for it, almost reaching to change faces right then and there. But he couldn't leave Vyolet. She was his task. Nothing more. And he never failed. He would take her safe and sound to the House of Black and White, and her bloody dragon too.

The little tour ended on the dining hall. The room, like all the others, seemed almost carved out of stone. There were more torches and goblets lightened with fire on the sides and large tables. There was one however, at the end of the room, presiding above the others. The Asshai took them there. The hall slowly filled with all the servants on the place. They were all different ages, dressed all in black. They bowed at Vyolet, before standing still, in front of their tables.

There was a high black chair in the middle with scarlet cushions. The place of the queen, Laedor told Vyolet before assiting her to the chair and he saw her lovely eyes shining at the words.

She had been uncomfortable at the beginning by people calling her 'your grace', and queen, but she wasn't anymore. Jaqen could tell. Oh, these snakes knew what they were doing. Casting another spell in Vyolet, murmuring in her ear. She had been a prisoner for two years, of the queen, of Tywin Lannister. She was hungry for freedom and these priests they were feeding it to her as well as fake power.

Jaqen quickly took the seat next to hers, on her right. Vaesa took the one on her left along with Laedor and two others sta next to Jaqen. As to remind him where he was and that he was outnumbered.

They brought their meal and Jaqen hid a smile when Vyolet smelled her cup of wine quickly, before taking a sip. She hadn't forgotten completely, where they were.

They ate rosted pig with appleas and cherries, potatoes, cheese, and bread. And Vyolet ate small dainty portions. One may have thought it was because she wasn't that hungry or for etiquette, but Jaqen had noticed she had liked to stuff her face with dessert afterward. The man scolded himself once again about noticing and remembering small insignificant details like that one. Instead, he focused on Vyolet's talk with Vaesa and Laedor, making sure they were filling her head too much. And couldn't help smiling when he noticed the girl taking two extra lemon cakes.

When the feast ended, Vaesa rose and the hall fell silent.

"And now, the ceremony shall start. The Lord of Light will gift the Mother with her child."

Laedor stood up and tended Vyolet a hand. She took it, standing up as well and the hall burst in cheers. Vyolet's eyes shone even brighter, Jaqen noticed. She was liking this too much.

* * *

Vaesa and Laedor took Vyolet to another room. Jaqen took her arm once again, not wanting her to leave his sight.

It was a simple bedroom where she was changed into a white dress. The cloth was heay but clung to her like a second skin. Jaqen H'ghar took notice of every curve while the man wearing his face cursed him.

Then they were taken through a corridor and a door that lead to the outside. Vyolet looked up at the moon while Jaqen took in his surroundings. They at the end of the slope they had entered through.

It was a small clearing protected by trees and rocks. They were torches forming a circle and in the middle was a large wood pyre. Large enough for a human being. Jaqen tensed, prepard to charge against the people around.

They stopped.

"What I am going to do?" Vyolet asked the Vaesa, frowning confused.

"You just have to carry the egg to the fire, your grace. And wait."

Jaqen snapped his head at her.

"Do you meant for Vyolet to wait on the flames?" He asked harshly.

Vaesa gave him a sweet exasperating smile like he was just a dumb child.

"The Lord of Light showed us how Daenerys hatched her dragons, my lord. This is the way." She wasn't lying, still, her voice made him angrier. "But I assure you, your grace would be alright. She's a dragon. A dragon cannot be killed by fire."

The Vaesa turned to Vyolet and bowed.

"Whenever you're ready, your grace," she said and walked away to the pyre, leaving them alone.

As soon as Vaesa was out of hearing reach, Jaqen turned to Vyolet and clasped her hand.

"Vyolet, you don't have to do this. We can leave right now. Just say the word."

Vyolet opened her eyes surprised and she looked like she was seeing him for the first time but then, they softened.

Vyolet smiled softly and raised her other hand to his cheek, her thumb grazing his skin softly.

"It's alright, Jaqen. I'll be alright. Wait for me."

And she pulled her hand out of his, turning to the pyre that had just been lit. The fire and the smoke rose to the moon.

* * *

 **Thank you guys, for reading, liking and reviewing this story. Love you so much. Let me know what you think.**


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

With Fire and Blood

...

Vyolet smiled at Jaqen who looked surlier than usual. He had never shown emotion in front of others before. She knew he worried for her sake, but he had to trust her. Deep inside she knew this was alright. This was meant to be.

Vyolet walked to the pit fire where Laedor and Vaesa stood in front of the scorching fire. Two servants approached. One with the egg on the cushion and one with a large golden bowl. Now the rest of the servants of the underground temple stood in a circle around the priest and priestess and around Vyolet and Jaqen.

Vaesa rose her arms and they all fell silent.

"The night is dark and full of terrors," she spoke into the night. "But the Lord of Light has shown us a way. A light to break the darkness. A flame that will save the world for the darkness and the cold.

The Lord of Light welcomes you, Vyolet Targaryen, and recognizes your royal blood, the old blood from Valyria."

As she said that, the servant carrying a large gold bowl stepped forward. He surrounded Vyolet until he was behind her and rose the bowl. A warm wave hit her back and shoulders and for a moment thought the servant had poured warm water over her. But when she looked down she saw dark thick blood running down her dress and arms, soaking the once white cloth. The sight should have turned her stomach some other time, but it didn't.

With a bow the servant retired. Then, the one holding the egg stepped forward. The boy knelt offering Vyolet the gleaming blue egg. The girl took it, cradling in her arm like an infant.

Then she looked up to Vaesa and Laedor who stepped aside, making a path for her towards the pyre.

"The Lord of Light welcomes you, lost princess," Vaesa kept going, extending her hand. "The Lord wants to bring your child away from the shadows."

Vyolet took this as her cue to walk to the fire. On the corner of her eye, she saw Jaqen. He had moved forward so she would see him and gave her a look. She knew if she said the word, he would fight all the people in here to get her out, but everything was alright. She smiled lightly at him, reassuring him. Maybe it was the fire light playing tricks on her, but Vyolet thought Jaqen looked anxious.

Vyolet reached Vaesa and Laedor and the people around started chanting: 'blood of my blood'.

Vaesa and Laedor bowed while saying:

"Let the Lord warm you, princess, mother, and bring the light into the world. Cast the night away."

Vyolet could feel the heat, abrassing and powerful caressing her skin, as if calling fro her, as f receiving her with wide arms. She kept walking to the yellow and orange flames, unafraid. Maybe she should be, she thought. Maybe she wouldn't survive this. But then she stepped on the burning wood of pyre and her body was wrapped in flames. And it was like her dreams. All she could see was fire, and she smelled smoke. The soles of her sandals burned away quickly as well as her dress, but her skin just felt warm, like she had stepped into a tub of hot water, nothing else.

Vyolet held the egg closer to her chest and was surprised when, instead of the rock like texture, it felt softer, almost flexible. The blood on her hands and arms burnt on her skin and stuck to her.

Vyolet didn't know how long she stood in the flames. She felt like drowning. But she had to wait. She had to wait for her dragon, her child. And then. As if it had heard her, the egg cracked.

...

Jaqen stood as close to the pyre as he could bear. His skin almost hurt by the heat and he sweated profusely, but he refused to move. His eyes firmly fixed on the glowing fire.

As Vyolet stepped on the pyre, Jaqen's heart seemed to stop. But she kept walking, without screaming in pain and looking unaffected. Jaqen couldn't help worrying but marveling. What if she died, just without a sound? What if they had put another spell on her to die, silently. At this point, if she really wasn't a Targaryen dragon, Vyolet was now with the Many Faced God. And this shouldn't bother him. Valar Morghulis.

Then he saw it. A silhouette walking out of the pyre of fire. It grew and grew until Vyolet stepped out of the fire. The girl was alive and well. Her skin glowed with the fire behind her, her hair shook lose with the air. And then, cradled on her arm, its mouth around the girls bare breast was a small blue creature.

Jaqen then realized it was a dragon.

All the presents, servants and priests, old and young, one by one, sank to their knees and bowed. And they chanted.

Jaqen couldn't help but marvel. Not only Vyolet was alive and untouched, but she had managed to hatch the egg. Vyolet had made the impossible. Jaqen had never thought he would get to see a living dragon, specially this close. He had travel the world, and visited many places, heard many myths, but never thought they could be real. Not all of them anyway. And now Vyolet had birth a dragon. She was a dragon herself int hat moment. Gone was the scared girl Jaqen had seen kept in that tower, following Arya Stark closely, worried about her wellbeing. The lovely girl was now as fierce as the creature in her arm, her eyes were scorching ambers.

He couldn't help it. He barely even realized he had sunk to his knees as well, and bowed to Vyolet.

* * *

Caerlight had been the home of Meralith for sixteen years now. Her earlier years had been spent on Redfort with her siblings. Then she was married to Rendal Lannister and move to King's Landing. Then Dragonstone, when the rebel army attacked the city, and then went to Casterly Rock when the war ended and King Aerys died. She had moved constantly that she forgot what home meant. But after so much, her husband build her a large manor, Caerlight. It wasn't Casterly Rock, it wasn't grand but it was theirs. And they needed their privacy. She loved Vyolet with all her heart, but she feared for her constantly, afraid the people would know. Fifteen years Meralith lived in relative peace, with her children. She only was afraid when the king and queen come along. She was afraid Robert would recognize the Targaryen in her and have her killed. She was afraid of Joffrey's sadistic abuse and that Vyolet wouldn't be able to control herself around him. But fifteen years passed alone.

Then Cersei's letter came, soliciting her daughter. Meralith had been so reluctant to let her go. Why now' And her worst fears confirmed. They knew. Tywin and Cersei. At least Robert was dead now. But they had their daughter, prisoner.

Then she received a message from Varys, the Spider, saying he had helped Vyolet escaped with the Night's Watch. So Varys knew as well, or suspected something. And why would he helped Vyolet' Why risk his privilaged possition? And where was Vyolet now that even Varys spies couldn't find her?

She had been barely eating or sleeping. She only did for her children, because they were afraid of her declining aspect.

Korban, her fiesty thirteen-year-old son had told her he would grab his horse and bring Vyolet back. Eyla, her second daughter and only ten years old had said she would go as well. She had just smiled and hugged her children, still naive enough to the horrors behind their walls.

And Meralith would constantly watched out of the window, in search for Vyolet of the men she had paid to bring her back. She prayed the gods to keep her safe, to bring her home.

* * *

Vyolet and Jaqen were back into their the ceremony, Vaesa had provided Vyolet with a dark robe to cover, and they had been lead to their rooms to rest.

Now, they were sitting at the table, admiring the small new born dragon in front of Vyolet. His scales were a deep blue, looking like jewels, but sometimes Vyolet saw a bit of a dash purple. The girl was petting the dragon's neck slowly with a finger and the small creature had his eyes closed making small noises.

Vyolet looked up at Jaqen smiling.

"Have you ever seen something so extraordinary?" She asked him.

Jaqen smiled back softly.

"A man has travel far to places a girl couldn't even fathom and yet he can't help but marvel."

Vyolet smiled even more and looked up at him. Jaqen was staring at the little dragon, marveled. She had never seen him so open with showing his emotions. She wasn't sure if he was getting more comfortable around her or he was just taken aback, but still it warmed her heart. Vyolet noticed Jaqen's hand extending softly to the dragon but stopping a few inches away, doubtful.

"Go on," Vyolet told him with a reassuring smile.

Jaqen glanced at Vyolet before extending his hand slowly. The little dragon turned to it, sniffing it for a while before letting him petting its head.

Vyolet's grew even bigger.

"She likes you," she told Jaqen.

The man rose an eyebrow.

"She?"

"Well, I'm not sure is a she, but I have a hunch." Vyolet shrugged.

"And what would a girl name her dragon?"

"I would name her after the fiercest woman I know," Vyolet replied firmly. "Her name is Meralian."

Jaqen looked up at her.

"After my mother," Vyolet clarified.

Jaqen stared at her for a moment, before smiling softly and bowing his head.

"Meralian it is."

Vyolet smiled at him and then at the little dragon. She extended her hand to Meralian and the little creature calmly jumped to girl's hand. Vyolet stood up, cradling it and placed him down on a pillow on the bed, on the far side of it.

Meralian turned around in circles before settling down. Vyolet kept petting her until the little dragon yawned and closed its eyes. In the meantime, Jaqen locked the door, made sure the peepholes were covered and their weapons were at close range. When they had left the room, he had been sure they would have taken them away, but they were still there.

Jaqen was no fool and he knew their weapons hadn't been overlooked. Maybe they hadn't killed Vyolet, and maybe that wasn't their plan, but it didn't mean they weren't still planning something. They had a dragon now under their roof. He knew they weren't going to let them leave with them. Not without a fight.

When Jaqen finished checking the door was closed and the peepholes were covered he took off his gambeson and left it on a chair. As he turned around he noticed Vyolet was curled on the far side of the bed next to her dragon. The man took his boots off without saying anything and then walked to the bed. But unlike last night, Vyolet didn't turn and rested her head on his chest. She didn't even move.

Jaqen watched her back turned to him.

"Is a girl not afraid anymore?"

Vyolet turned to look at him over her shoulder and smiled.

"No. I have you here, and Meralian. I feel safe."

Jaqen bowed his head before lying down, still looking at her.

"Good night, Jaqen," Vyolet said, before turning her head away.

"Night, lovely girl."

As he watched her back, covered in the black robe, he tried to suppress his longing. But he couldn't. A man cursed Jaqen H'ghar once again for his weakness, for missing a girl's body between his arms. He wished more than ever to be able to get rid of this face and his trivial thoughts and desires but he couldn't. Instead, he focused. He pushed Jaqen H'ghar's thoughts to the back of his mind and thought about his mission, about his master's words.

 _Bring the Targaryen girl back to the House._ He needed to finish his mission and he never failed. This time would be no exception. He would deliver what was promised and not only that. He would give his master two dragons.

* * *

When Vyolet woke up she didn't open her eyes. She felt so at peace and her muscles felt like butter that she didn't bother to move for a while. That's what a long good night sleep did for her, specially after a tiring day. She was about to fall asleep yet again when she noticed her pillow was a bit firmer than what she remembered, and warmer and... Oh shit...

Vyolet opened her eyes and indeed realized it wasn't a pillow her head was but a torso, and she could only guess whose torso. She tried to stop her blushing when she looked up and Jaqen smiled down at her.

"Morning, lovely girl."

"Hey. I'm sorry," she said, quickly, lifting off from Jaqen's body and sitting up next to him. He just seemed amused but didn't tease her further.

"It's alright."

A small hiss dragged her attention away and she saw Meralian angrily stomping onto the pillow. Apparently she didn't like to be ignored.

"Alright, alright," said Vyolet picking up Meralian bringing her close to her chest.

"Maybe she's hungry," said Jaqen, pulling away the covers and standing up.

"What do dragons eat?" She asked turning to Jaqen. The man had his arm extended and he stretched, his muscles showing under the shirt he was wearing.

He turned then to Vyolet, and the girl quickly looked away blushing.

"Meat, a man thinks."

Vyolet then kicked the sheets out of her feet and stood up as well, carrying Meralian on one arm.

She walked the table with the two cups and the water jar. She poured water on both and Jaqen approached, thinking the other cup was meant for him. But Vyolet placed down Meralian on the table, in front one cup where the dragon drank quickly. Vyolet picked up the other as she turned to Jaqen and took a big gulp of the water.

Jaqen gave her a look.

"A girl gave a man's cup to the dragon."

"You stole my water yesterday." Vyolet gave him a smirk.

Jaqen gave her an annoyed look and shook his head.

"This offense would not be forgiven, lovely girl," he replied teasingly walking to the wardrobe meant for him in the room. He smiled when he heard the girl's giggles.

"Lovely girl, chose a thick dress," Jaqen told her while choosing a thick wool doublet himself. "We may have to spend some nights outdoors."

"What?"

Jaqen turned to her and raised an eyebrow.

"Has a girl forgotten already we need to leave?"

Vyolet shook her head.

"About that, Jaqen please. Vaesa told me they had several books about dragons. And Meralian is still a baby. She needs care that I don't know anything about. Please."

Jaqen's face become blank. Vyolet could tell he was upset because he normally didn't look like that when they were alone. That face was reserved for strangers.

"Ask for the books and then we'll be in our way."

"One day more. Please."

Before Jaqen could answer, they were interrupted by knocks on the door.

"It's me your grace," the servant girl from the other day said.

"Come on in."

Jaqen threw her a dark look. Vyolet kept her glance forward, but she could feel his angry eyes on her.

Behind the girl came four young men carrying two bathtubs. They placed them in front of the fire before retiring quickly. They were replaced by three handmaidens who filled the tub with hot water.

Vyolet and Jaqen couldn't talk while there were people entering and leaving their rooms so Jaqen sat on a chair, grabbed his sword and a whetstone, and sharpened the blade, all the while ignoring Vyolet.

The girl bit her lip watching his blank face and his eyes focused on his sword. She just hoped a hot bath would lightened up his mood. It wasn't as this place was bad. It wasn't like they had thought. People here so nice, and helpful. Vyolet had almost forget the last time people had cared for her this much.

Vyolet sat in the mean time at the table. The servant girl had brought her a bowl full of berries for her and a bowl full of chunks of raw meat for Meralian. The little dragon smelled the meat before stepping away hissing and looking at Vyolet.

"Come on, Meralian. You need to eat," Vyolet encouraged the little dragon but Meralian just blow a bit of smoke towards the meat. Vyolet frowned, having an idea. She grabbed a piece of meat and stood up.

Vyolet went next to Jaqen who was sharpenning their weapons. Without a word, she grabbed the silver dagger he had gave her and placed the meat at the end.

Jaqen frowned at her actions but didn't say nothing. He just watched her go to the fireplace and roasted the meat on the fire. It didn't take long since it was such a small piece. Then, she returned to the table. Meralian opened her small fauces and bat her small wings exitedly. This time she accepted the offering of smoaking meat and chewed it happily.

"You are so clever, your grace," the servant girl told Vyolet who smiled at the little eating dragon. Then she grabbed Meralian on one arm, and the bowl and dagger with the other. She placed the little dragon on the mantle and roasted small chunks of meat and then offered them to the dragon. Apparently the more charted the meat, the better.

She continued to feed the dragon, while the servant girls filled the tubs, stealing marveling glances of Meralian and a few of Jaqen.

The Lorathi watched Vyolet annoyed and realized his mission was in jeopardy. These people were enchanting Vyolet like the YiTi enchanters did with the cobras. He could see the fear in Vyolet's eyes was gone, and his grasp on her was losening. If they stayed longer in this place, she wouldn't want to leave it. He needed to convince her. These people may not want to hurt her, but definetely they wanted something of her. He needed her to see that. So despite his annoyance, he had to try to be gentler. Pushing her away wouldn't work, because he would push her into the grasps of those priests. Vyolet cared for him, he could tell. She trusted him completely, and she was convinced he would protect her without hesitation. Also, she seemed slightly attracted to this face. He didn't want to cross any lines, because Vyolet was to become his apprentice, but right now he didn't have any choice. He couldn't show up to the House empty-handed and he couldn't just simplyy take her away. Well he could, easily. But he doubted she would forgive him if he took her to Braavos as a prisoner.

He felt her eyes on him once again and this time he met them. Her eyes looked remorseful and her face looked worried. Good, Jaqen thought annoyed. She wasn't meeting her side of their arrengement. But again he couldn't push her away. This was his mission.

Jaqen sighed and cocked his head to the side raising an eyebrow at her. He let his eyes roamed down her thin white neck to her shoulders and arms. He noticed the still red scar on her collar bone. Her wounds had heeled but they were still tender. Jaqen looked up at her face who was flushed with his examination. He let a smirk fell into his face and looked at her as a starving man would do to a feast. It worked. The girl turned redder and she sank deeper into the water, but he caught a small smile peaking out.

When Vyolet got out of the tub, he looked away giving her privicy. But got very annoyed at the flimsy thin dress they put on her. So she wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon. And, before leaving for the dining hall, Vyolet walked closer to him and gave him an apologetic look.

"Just one day more, please."

Jaqen sighed and nodded, making her smile. But he could see the truth clear as day in her face.

The hall was filled as servants and priests just like last time. When Vyolet and Jaqen entered, everyone bowed deeply to the girl and her smile grew wider.

Vaesa, Laedor and the other priests waited for them at the main table. Thy all bowed as well.

"Mother of Dragons, the closest thing we can give you to the Iron Throne that was stolen from your family," Laedor told Vyolet moving the tall chair so Vyolet could sat at the middle of the table.

The girl smiled brightly at them.

"You have done enough for me. You have fed me, and cloth me, and give me a dragon. My child. I'll be grateful and proud to sit among you."

The entire hall clapped as Vyolet took her seat. This time, Jaqen didn't only focused on Vyolet's face but on the priests'. Their smiles were genuine, but there was an ulterior motive.

As Jaqen took the seat next to her, no one stopped him, but the looks of the rest of the table weren't as warm as the ones given to Vyolet. The girl took Meralian from her shoulder and placed her on the table, where the little dragon started sniffing the cup curiosily, but then turned to other objects.

Well, at least he didn't have to worry about poison, thought Jaqen looking at the little creature.

Then the servants brought the food. A rack of ribs, goat cheese, apples and breath. They also placed a small bowl of raw meat for the dragon. Meralian approached Vyolet's plate, sniffed one rib, before started munching on it.

Vyolet and the whole table, excet for Jaqen, laughed.

"I don't know some many things about her," Vyolet admited to Vaesa, who was on her left.

"Your grace, if you allowed us, we have brought knowledge from Assahai." The woman replied. "Knowledge about dragons lost in time. Do you want her to fly? Do you want her to burn? You must speak to her in Valyrian."

"Valyrian?"

Vyolet turned to Meralian smelling the goat cheese, distrustfully.

"I can show a girl a few words in Valyrian if she wishes so," Jaqen intervened, smoothly. He made sure to lean close on Vyolet, almost whispering the words to her.

However, Vyolet turned to him, smirking.

"I know Valyrian. My mother made me study it. I never understood why. I never understood so many things."

"Not anymore, your grace," Vaesa replied, dragging her attention away. "We'll make sure you always have all the answers you desire."

Vyolet smiled thankful and nodded.

The she turned to Meralian. Vyolet grabbed a small piece of raw meat from her bowl and placed it under her sniffing stout.

"Dracarys," Vyolet said loud and firmly.

Meralian moved her head, staring at Vyolet, then looked down at the meat. The little dragon opened her fauces and made a hissing sound. It didn't spat fire, not really, it was more like a breath of burning fire. But it was hot enough to char the meat on Vyolet's hands.

Vyolet laughed, delighted and handed the piece of meat to Meralian who ate it happily. The whole room burst in applauses, and Vyolet looked around thankful and happy.

Jaqen glanced at Vaesa who was clapping with the rest. It was a very brief moment, but she definetely gave Jaqen a self-satisfied smirk.

* * *

After and during dinner, Jaqen watched Vyolet closely. He didn't like what he was seeing. She ate and drank everything they gave to her to check if it was clean. She didn't even check the meat Meralian was eating. And when she had her bath that morning, she drifted off for a moment. Vyolet had said if was because the water had been soothing, but he knew better. And later, that night, when they were getting ready to sleep, her words confirmed what he was dreading.

"You know, Jaqen. This place... Maybe we were wrong about it."

Vyolet turned to Jaqen after she had place Meralian next to her on a pillow. Vyolet was sitting on the middle of the bed, as Jaqen took of his doublet.

He stopped untying and locked his eyes with hers.

"A girl's eyes are clouded by flattery and commodities," he told her.

Vyolet's smile disappeared and she frowned angrily.

"They're not. Maybe I am not as smart as you but..."

"A man is not insulting a girl's mind," Jaqen quickly interrupted, walking towards the bed and sitting next to her. "A girl's mind is sharp, maybe even more than a man's. But the Assahi are known to manipulate feelings, lovely girl. They know of your fears and your desires. They know you crave your home and peace, but also..."

"Also what?" Vyolet's voice was harsh. Jaqen didn't mind.

"I saw you when Meralian was born," Jaqen told her. "Your eyes had a fierceness I have never seen before. The way they shone when every person in the room bowed to you is the same the way they shine when they call you Mother or Queen. You crave power lovely girl, as your dragon craves meat."

Vyolet glared at Jaqen indignantly.

"I don't want power."

Jaqen gave her a bitter smirk.

"Of course you do. Power and freedom. There's not a person in the world that don't crave such luxuries. Freedom to make your own decisions, power to make them a reality."

"Do you as well?"

Jaqen kept smirking, and only rose an eyebrow.

"A man is no one, remember?"

Vyolet frowned at that. He had said it before and she had accepted it. She had accepted that his face and his name wasn't his. But she trusted him nonetheless.

"You are someone to me," Vyolet replied. "You are my friend. You are to be my master, aren't you? You are someone I can trust. Don't you trust me?"

Jaqen sighed, exasperated but he remembered this careful game he was playing and he couldn't lose to the had observed all night and finally had the pieces on his side. He just needed to lay down his move carefully.

He turned to Vyolet, and reached for her hand.

"I do, Vyolet. But this is not about trusting you."

"If these people are not to be trusted, why would they give me Meralian?" Vyolet asked him, rising her eyebrows. "Why would they give me a dragon?"

"Because they know how grateful you are. They know you'll remember this kindness when you take the throne."

Vyolet buffed.

"I want no throne."

"Maybe you'll do one day," said Jaqen harshly. "When they have called you queen enough times. When they tell you how your family is suffering, and the people, and they just need a fair but gentle ruler. When they whisper in your ear you can be free of Tywin and Cersei Lannister once you sit on the throne."

Vyolet gave him an angry look.

"You don't know me as well as you think you do, Jaqen," she said coldly, snatching her hand from his.

Jaqen's expression darkened.

"Perhaps, but if you're so sure of your new followers tell me this. Where the blood comes from?"

Vyolet frowned, genuinely confused.

"The blood? What blood?"

"The blood from the goblets adorning your paths with its light and the temple. The blood they poured onto you before hatching Meralian. Haven't you noticed it, lovely girl?"

Vyolet shrugged, dismissing but a nasty feeling was getting a grip on her stomach.

"Maybe from some animal from the woods," said Vyolet.

Jaqen gave her a firm look.

"It's human blood, Vyolet."

Her heart skipped a beat and she opened her eyes horrified.

"How would you know that?"

"Because in the dead of the night, when you listen closely, you can hear them."

"Hear what?"

"The screams."

* * *

Tywin was angry. It wasn't unusual these days however, with his son ruining his family name and his daughter unable to control that brat thye had for king. Their enemies had grown, but the gods had favored them. Rob Stark wasn't a big threat anymore, and he wouldn't be one for longer. The Tyrells had quit their plots and now they were working for Tywin's agenda but there was one lose end. Vyolet. He had much time to think about his niece with all the problems going on, but she was a problem, nontheless. He couldn't allow her to leave Westeros, and she wouldn't without her mother's help. He knew now with certainty, Vyolet wasn't at... She wasn't stupid, Tywin would give her that. She probably knew that was the first place anyone would look for her. But Meralith was already sending spies to look for her daughter. He couldn't allow them to reunite.

This was a difficult decision. He valued family above all else, but he couldn't allow traitors to live. Not while they thretened him.

Tywin extended the parchment and write the order. If had to be quiet. It had to be quick. The rest of the family and Westeros couldn't suspect his hand on this. Tywin spread some sand on the parchment to dry the ink. Then he blew it away, folded the letter and sealed it with wax. Tomorrow morning, the order will be out. There would not be going back.

* * *

Vyolet didn't want to believe it. She didn't want the trust she felt towards these people to break like that. She had been proven right when trusting people. Ellion, Yoren even Jaqen was proof that she was able to recognize good people. But she started doubted herself as she crossed the corridors with Jaqen.

He had helped her into a dress and a cloak and she carried Meralian in one arm. Then he insited of her carrying her dagger and sword. He did the same.

If what Jaqen said was true... It couldn't be true. Jaqen was just looking for an excuse to leave, wasn't he?

They crossed the corridors swiftly and quickly, trying to stay on the shadows. Finally, Jaqen led her through a corridor she knew she hadn't been before. It was large and had several ventilation holes, so it was very cold. Vyolet was thankful, Jaqen insited she changed into a dress before going.

And then, she heard them. Cries. And as they walked closer, she could hear bits... _They're coming... Gods, please, help us... Please, mother, please..._

At the end of the corridor there were three large doors. But these doors, were not like the others in this place. They were solid with big locks, and only a small rectangle with bars on the top.

Vyolet stopped and turned to Jaqen. His face looked blank, but his eyes looked dark. Vyolet wasn't sure if it were the torches casting shadows on him or something else. Jaqen took one of the torches in the wall and extended his arm towards Vyolet. The girl shallowed, reading herself for what she was about to see. If what Jaqen said was right... There was definetely people in there but how horrific the sight would be?

Vyolet took the torch with a trembling hand and then approached the door. The girl rose to her tip toes and rose the torch, the light spilling in one of the rooms.

It wasn't a room, more like an overcrowded cell. It wasn't as gory as what Vyolet had been picturing, but it was horrific just the same. Donzens of people were cramed in that room, men, women and children. They looked skinny, almost like they were dressed on servants clothing. Had the priests imprissioned them immediatedly? Or after being servants of this place for a time?

When Vyolet first cast the light on them, they shrank back and screamed for mercy, their cries breaking Vyolet's heart. But then a man noticed it wasn't the priests but a face they haven't seen before. The man threw himself to the door and Vyolet stepped back startled.

"Please! Help us!" The man cried, trying to get his hand pass the bars. "Help us! HELP US!"

The people inside the cells echoed his cries, and the corridor fillwed with cries for mercy, asking Vyolet to let them go. A few just asked for a quick death.

Vyolet was numb, her body cold and shaking. Jaqen had been right about this place not been what it looked like. And if they had threw in the servants who looked just thankful to be in here, what they were planning for them?

"You were not supposed to see this, your grace," a voice interrupted Vyolet's thoughts. Both Vyolet and Jaqen turned quickly and they saw Vaesa, Laedor and the other priests surrounding them.

Vyolet turned around violently and glared at Vaesa, Laedor and the priests around them. Sensing Vyolet's feelings, Meralian hissed threateningly towards the priests. Jaqen grabbed the hilt of his sword, ready to use it.

"You're killing them," Vyolet spat, still too shocked.

"They're traitors, your grace," Vaesa replied calmly. "They betrayed your family and you. But we are merciful. The Lord of Light, welcomes them. Forgives their sins once atoned with fire and blood."

"These are peasants," Vyolet refuted, her voice losing the shock and replacing it with anger. "They don't know better. And there are children in there!"

"Your niece and nephew were children as well when the traitors slaughtered them," said Laedor calmly. "The traitors didn't show mercy then. When they butchered your brother Rhaegal, when they chased away your siblings and forced you to hide."

"We just wanted to help you, your grace," Vaesa said. "We are here to serve you, to protect you, from those who wish you harm." She made a pause, glancing at Jaqen. Vyolet didn't miss the glance, knowing what she was implying.

"And there's so much you still don't know. Come with us. We'll explain you everything."

Vaesa extended a hand towards her. Then Jaqen pulled out his sword.

"Come on, lovely girl. Time to go."

Vyolet looked at Jaqen and then at Vaesa.

"We'll go to the temple and you will tell me everything," said Vyolet then, calm and firmly. Her voice didn't leave room to arguments. She wasn't asking, she was done asking.

The priestess bowed and extended her hand again. Vyolet ignored it. She turned to Jaqen. She wanted him to understand she was going to leave this place, but after she had some answers. He was welcome to come with her, or leave.

Jaqen nodded at her and for a moment fret Vyolet hadn't only lose trust in the priests but in him. Jaqen pulled away his sword and then Vyolet walked ahead, passing him and the priests, her steps echoing while the cries of mercy died slowly.

Vyolet entered the temple and noticed a pyre burning. There was an object in the fire glowing. The priests had planned whatever this was, Vyolet realized. She then placed Meralian on her shoulder and turned around. Jaqen walked to her and stood closer than the priests. They were no stupid, and knew the anger Vyolet felt was directed towards them.

"Well then, explain," Vyolet ordered them.

"There is a profecy, your grace," said Vaesa. "Meri kīvio dārilaros ōz maghagon kostas."

Vyolet raised an eyebrow.

"The prince that was promised?" Vyolet repeated in the common tongue. "I am no prince."

"In Valyrian, it means prince or princess, your grace," Laedor intervened softly. "It's gender neutral. So it would be the prince or princess that was promised. That's you Vyolet Targaryen."

Vyolet didn't answer. She just stared at the priests.

"What do you mean 'bring the dawn'?" She asked.

"The Long Night is coming, your grace," Laedor replied. "Winter is coming, and the dead with it."

Jaqen turned to Vyolet to see her reactions, but there was barely any. At least she had learn something from him, something about the Faceless Men without ever stepping into the temple. Rule your face.

"You're talking about that myth from beyond the wall?" She asked derisevely.

"It is no myth, your grace," Vaesa intervened. "The death had been asleep for thousands of years, but not anymore. There is a great war coming, your grace. Greater than anything you've ever imagined. The dark and the cold is coming for all of us, your grace. Our only hope is Azor Ahai, the one that was promised. You."

Vyolet blinked and she looked away pensively. The tension of the room was getting to Jaqen. For the first time while knowing her, he couldn't predict what Vyolet would do, nor what she was thinking. Was this all getting to her?

"Even if I believe all of this, I am no princess," Vyolet finally spoke. "I am a bastard."

"Azhor Ahai will be born amidst smoke and salt," Vaesa declared. "If I may be forward, your grace, where you were born?"

Vyolet hesitated.

"Dragonstone. My mother was part of Queen Rhaellas's court but that doesn't mean anything. Maybe the princess you're looking for is Daenerys, she was born there as well."

Vaesa shook her head.

"The Lord of Light showed us your future, your grace. Your deeds can only be those of Azhor Ahai. But there are still doubts in your mind I can see it. Azhor Ahai had a sword, a flaming sword. He forged it himself. This sword brought the end to the Long Night, and will lead us into battle once again."

Vyolet glanced behind her at the long shape lying on the pyre. She rose an eyebrow.

"This sword?"

"Your sword, your grace." Laedor bowed his head. "Lightbringer. And only you will be able to pull it from those flames."

"Any Targaryen who is a dragon can get this sword," said Vyolet looking at them.

"The dragons are dead, your grace," Vaesa replied. "All but one."

Her eyes fixed on Vyolet and Jaqen saw it. Vyolet's eyes gleaming, burning with fire.

Vyolet turned around and moved her cloak out of the way. The she rolled the sleeve of her dress until her elbow and reached between the flames for the sword. It didn't have a hilt yet, just a long piece of iron.

Vyolet pulled it out of the flames and looked at the sword with wide eyes. It looked like the sword was still on fire. Vyolet held it high and away from her. Meralian hissed at the sword.

"Your grace, trust us," Vaesa told Vyolet. "We only wish to give you back what the world took from you. You are the right heir to the throne, you are the one who will bring the Long Night to it's end, and we will protect you from those who wish to harm you."

At that, Vaesa turned to glare at Jaqen.

"Have you told her grace about your mission Lorathi?" The Priestess asked. "About why you so desperately want to take her to Essos and the reason behind it?"

Vyolet turned to Jaqen whose face didn't look as blank as always. His eyes glared at Vaesa with a fierceness that sent shivers down Vyolet's spine. But the priestess didn't look intimidated.

"A man has."

"Really? Have you told her everything?"

Jaqen turned to Vyolet before replying.

"I have."

Vyolet didn't respond to any of them. She turned to the flaming sword on her hand.

"So this is the legendary sword that would help make me all those deeds?" Vyolet asked. "It is this simple?"

"Not quite, your grace," Vaesa replied. "The real lightbringer requires... a sacrifice."

Vyolet raised an eyebrow.

"The hero Azhor Ahai coated it with the blood of who he loved the most," Laedor explained, "his wife Nissa Nissa. Her sould impregnated the sword and made it burn."

"If this Lightbringer has to be coated with the blood of who she loves the most," Jaqen intervened for the first time. He didn't like the gleam in Vyolet's eyes and needed to regain control. "Are you suggesting a girl sacrifices her family for your plans?"

Vyolet turned at the priests at that, expecting. They all glared at the Lorathi, but Vaesa smirked.

"Not her family, but maybe a treacherous man, whose not her real husband. Whose face it's not even his own."

Jaqen glared at the woman, but what worried him was Vyolet's blank face. He remembered all those times she had defended him agaisnt the bull boy. And that was just a insignificant boy that meant no threat for him. Now she remained silent. Vyolet stared at Vaesa and then at the sword. She rocked it lightly. The flames didn't dissapeared.

"Slay the Lorathi, your grace," Vaesa continued, encouraged by the girl's silence, "and you'll save the world. You'll have the throne, you'll be queen. Your enemies will fall and suffer. You'll have everything you ever wanted. Slay the Lorathi. Bring the night to its knees."

Vyolet stared at Vaesa and then turned to Jaqen. He frowned, not knowing what she was thinking. Would she try to kill him? Have their words finally turned her against him? Jaqen evaluated the situation. He could kill Vyolet in a sword fight with a hand tied on his back, but she could throw him to a wall before getting too close. Was she planning that?

Vyolet glanced at the sword and then at him, letting her blanke face for a second. But it was enough. He knew her intentions.

Vyolet raised her sword, and before anyone could react it flew out of her hand and into Vaesa's throat. The force of the hit not only impaled her, but two other priests behind her.

Someone screamed, and Jaqen pulled out his sword turning to the priests but Vyolet was faster. She raised one hand, and threw the blood of the flaming bowls to the rest of the priests. The bown must had had oil for the fire to burn because as soon as it touch the priests, they were set on fire.

The temple filled with screams and fire as Vyolet threw over the other bowls, the oil and fire hitting the priests and the standards of the Lord of the Light.

One of the priests screamed in rage and charged against Vyolet with a dagger. But he missed Jaqen, who quickly and swiftly impailed him his sword, and thre the body to the ground.

Vyolet looked around the room, the fire slowly consuming it. A body, still smoaking and with severe burns dragged to where they were. It was Laedor.

Vyolet walked to him.

"Why would the Lord of Light would let burn his faithful servants, Laedor?" She asked him coldly.

Laedor couldn't talk. He just stared at her, his arms reaching for her.

"Maybe they weren't acting on his behalf, after all," said Vyolet.

She extended her hand to the air and the false Lightbringer flew to her hand. It was covered in blood. The girl looked Laedor in the eye.

"This is for all the blood you spilled," she said before driving it on his back. The priest stopped moving.

Vyolet looked up and noticed the fire blocking their path and their only way out. She turned to Jaqen.

"Stay close to me," said she, raising her free hand towards the flames. This moved to the side, making a path for them.

Jaqen walked closely behind Vyolet, and despite the fire behing held back, the heat was almost as burning.

Vyolet raised her hand and the doors burst opened. The screams and the fire had attracted servants and the rest of the priests, they were just three left. They saw Vyolet and Jaqen with swords in their hands and the fire behind them. The priests screamed in rage and ran to them. Jaqen killed them with a swift quick motion.

The servants cried in fear and stepped back.

"Please, don't kill us," one of them said.

Vyolet turned to him.

"You need to leave. This place will burn."

The servants nodded and they ran away to the nearest exit.

"Let's go, Vyolet," said Jaqen extedning a hand towards the girl.

Vyolet looked at him.

"Not yet, Jaqen. There are people still trapped here."

Jaqen bowed his head and followed her. He didn't care of those people trapped but Vyolet still did. That was good. That meant she had had their captivity in mind when she attacked the priests.

They reached to corridor. Jaqen helped her break the locks and they pulled opened the doors.

"Come on," Vyolet told them. "Follow us."

The people didn't move at first. Vyolet could only guess what had been they through.

"We're not going to hurt you," she assured them gently. "We're getting you out of here."

"But the priests..." said one man.

"They're dead," Jaqen said.

That was all they needed to hear. They all stood up and walked outside. They were so weaked they moved so slowly, and almost dragging their feet. Vyolet grabbed the hand of one little girl and guided them outside. The smoke was startling to fill the corridors but the servants had left the doors opened in their hurry. They exited to the small clear where Vyolet had hatched her dragons.

While living on the underground temple, she had lost notion of time. She thought it was night, but the sun was just rising on the east. The prisoners rejoiced, and hugged each other. Others ran away quickly, fearful that they were going to be trapped underground again.

Some of the servants, recognized some of the prisoners. They were their fathers or mothers, or siblings.

"Are there any horses in here?" Vyolet asked one of the servants. It was a young boy, slightly older than her.

The boy nodded.

"I'll bring them to you."

While they waited for the horses, Vyolet looked around. The people were laughing, and crying. Hugging each other, kissing the soft grass, or rising their arms to the sun. It brought a smile on her face. She wished them a happy life, even if she knew that was improbable.

After a few minutes the boy returned with two horses, one white and one black. The boy probably saddled the horses two quickly because it was askew. Vyolet rearrenged the reins and tied the unhilted sword to the saddle.

When she was done she looked at Jaqen.

"Ready?"

Jaqen cracked a smirk at her.

"I thought we would never leave, lovely girl."

Vyolet smiled soflty back.

Jaqen helped her up her horse and then climbed on the black horse.

When Vyolet looked around she noticed the people were now looking at them, specially at Meralian perched on her shoulder. And they were talking among them.

"She has a dragon."

"She is a Targaryen."

"But she has not silver hair. She's not Daenerys."

Then, the small boy approached Vyolet's horse and smiled at her.

"Thank you, m'lady."

Vyolet smiled at the boy and bowed her head. She turned to Jaqen and both ride away. As they left the people started crying after her. Praying the gods for the Targaryen princess, for the Blue Dragon that rescued them.

"Thank the gods for the Blue Dragon."

"Long live the Blue Dragon."

* * *

 **Guys I know it's been a while but hopefully you enjoy this as well as the others. Thanks again for reading this story, following and reviewing.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Sorry, guys. I know it's been awhile. Thank you all for reading, liking and reviewing this story. It means the world to me. I appreciate all your feedback. Hope you like it!**

* * *

Chapter 16

Bifurcation

...

Meralith climbed the stairs to Vyolet's room on the east tower. The room, for its position, was constantly filled with sunlight. That's why Meralith had chosen that room for her daughter. It was the least the she could do since Vyolet was barely allowed to the gardens. It was just too much of a risk and her daughter was too wild and too young to be cautious.

Meralith walked with the servant girl assigned to take care of Vyolet. The girl was bringing Vyolet her midday supper and was telling Meralith about the amusing stories her daughter had told her. She had been dreaming of dragons, the girl laughed. Vyolet said she was one and she was flying on the sky.

Meralith smiled softly and opened the door to her daughter's room, but the room was empty. Meralith turned to the servant girl who looked as shocked as the woman.

"Where is Vyolet? Where is my daughter?!" She practically yelled.

The girl shrunk, looking at her mistress desperately.

"I'm sorry, my lady, I don't..."

But Meralith didn't listen the rest. She ran downstairs past the girl, almost knocking her down. She ran thought the corridors, knowing perfectly her daughter had gone to. Or at least, she hoped so.

"Vyolet! Vyolet!" Meralith cried reaching the sunny gardens, looking around the bushes for the littler girl. "Vyolet!"

"Mother!"

Meralith turned around and her heart almost gave up. She felt relief to see her daughter unharmed and smiling, but she was playing with some flowers on the fountain. If the girl lost her balanced she would fall into the water.

Meralith ran to her and pulled her away from the fountain.

"Oh, my... Come here, my child. Thanks the Gods...! Are you hurt? You know you can't play outside without supervision, especially near the fountains!"

Vyolet pouted upset.

"But why not?"

"It's dangerous, sweetheart," Meralith replied, rubbing the tiny arms of the five-year old. "You know why."

Vyolet looked up at her, looking scared.

"Bad men will take me away."

Meralith nodded. Vyolet's head lowered, her eyes sad.

"But, shall I not play outside? Ever?"

"No, you will. But not yet, alright?" Meralith assured her with a smile. "I'll protect you. I'll make the bad men go away."

Meralith pinched playfully Vyolet's small chin and the little girl giggled. Then the woman rose to her feet and grabbed her daughter's hand.

"But now come. You shall late for your language lessons."

Vyolet pouted again.

"I don't want to, Mother. Valyrian it's so boring..."

Meralith woke up startled, Vyolet's voice still ringing in her ears and for a moment she swore she saw her daughter again as a five year-old. But it wasn't Vyolet who woke her up, but her son, Korban.

"Mother? Are you alright?"

Meralith had fallen asleep on her window seat and now he back and hips ached but she didn't mind. She was also cold for the night air, entering through the opened window. The woman sat straight and turned to her son.

"You should be asleep, sweetheart," she told him, grabbing his hand and pulling him to her. His son was barely thirteen, but he had been running the household since Meralith was going mad with worry. It was unfair to him, and she knew it. She wasn't the only one missing Vyolet.

"So do you," Korban replied hugging her back. "You need to rest."

Meralith nodded.

"I will. I promise."

She let go of her son and closed the window with a last stare. Her son noticed.

"I miss Vyolet too," he told her. "I even dreamed with her."

Meralith smiled, looking outside the trees, playing.

"You did?"

Korban nodded.

"She was well. She was alive. She was in the forest with a dragon."

Meralith's smile faded and she turned to her son.

"What did you say?"

Korban shrugged.

"A dragon. A blue one. That must mean good luck, doesn't it? Dragons were strong. It must be a good omen. It must mean she's alright."

Meralith forced a smile and nodded.

"It must."

She hugged him again.

"I'm sure she is alright," Korban told her looking outside the window as well.

* * *

It was a few hours now since Vyolet and Jaqen had left the underground temple. They'd been riding between the trees, trying to not be seen. Jaqen had been watching her since. They had talked all this time about what had happened in that small amount of time. They hadn't talked about the temple they had destroyed or the priests they had killed. Jaqen could still smell a faint hint of smoke on himself, but he was more concerned with Vyolet. She hadn't said a word, and her face was blank void of emotions. She would definitely make a good Faceless Man, Jaqen thought, if she learned to rule her face like that on command. However, he was sure it was the shock of all the recent events. How close they had been to die, at least him. Jaqen was sure they wouldn't hurt Vyolet, but the damn priests had tried to manipulate Vyolet into killing him. He himself thought he would have to fight her. He knew Vyolet wasn't a violent person, but there was ambition in her heart and they offered her her freedom and her family's in exchange of his life. It was so quick he hadn't had time to think about it, about her sacrifice. Perhaps she just thought they were lying to her and wanted to use her. Perhaps she didn't had that much consideration for his life, but still he couldn't help but feel thankful. And relieved. He knew now she would follow him to Braavos, no need for him to play with her feelings or to mess with his. He was itching to get rid of the Lorathi's face, his feelings messing with his mind, but he was worried about Vyolet's reaction. Has this situation broke her? Or was she just processing everything? Even the little dragon perched on her shoulder was hissing demanding her mother's attention but Vyolet's mind seemed too far away. He didn't like it. He preferred if she cried or scream or something. At least he would know she was alright, not this bland facade.

The time seemed to pass slower as they rode in silence. Finally, Vyolet spoke.

"If I'm not wrong, there's a town ahead," Vyolet told Jaqen pointing south west with her head. "We could get some provisions there, before heading north."

Jaqen glanced at her. He was relieved she was talking again but her face remained emotionless.

"And how can a girl plans to pay for these provisions?" He asked softly.

"You can change faces, Jaqen. I'm sure you could get a couple of coins without someone noticing."

Vyolet gave him a look and Jaqen smirked, chucking lightly. Vyolet heard him and smile softly. Jaqen sighted internally. So it was only the shock and she was well.

"A man would get a cage as well. It's not wise going around with a dragon." He nodded at Meralian perched on Vyolet's shoulder. "People would try to steal her, or kill her."

The dragon was too small to be a great defense. Her fire was powerful, but the stream was very narrow. If they came across a group of soldiers they could be overpowered easily. Meralian seemed to understand this and she hissed at Jaqen. Vyolet chuckled and pet the little dragon's head but nodded in agreement. Jaqen hid the satisfaction that seen her smile caused her.

"I'll stay by the river in the meantime," said Vyolet looking at Jaqen.

The man gave her a look but didn't disagree. He didn't forget what had happened the last time he had left her alone in the woods. But she had proven she could defend herself and this time she had Meralian with her.

Jaqen told Vyolet to stay hidden between the trees, to be careful and not make noise and if there was trouble to ride to the town and find him. He left her his horse and a second dagger, before changing his face and going to town afoot. With a war going on, there would be more than one idiot trying to rob him, and he didn't want to attract unnecessary attention.

Another problem arose as a man walked to the town. He was worried about Vyolet. Not worried as a master should worry about his student, or like a Faceless Man should worry about their mission. This was fear. He feared for her. The last time it was such a short trip, such a small span of time and yet she had almost been killed, she had almost died poisoned. Back in the underground temple, a man knew he wanted Vyolet, but he just attributed the want to the face of Jaqen he was wearing. Jaqen had admire Vyolet's resilience and strength, relished on her temper and when she came out of that pyre nude and glowing under the flames he had been as speechless as lustful. Sleeping in the same bed, wearing that face day and night didn't help, but he had been sure he would be free of those thoughts once freed of that face. But that wasn't quite the case. Because he feared losing the girl. Not failing his mission, but losing her.

As the town came into view, Jaqen shook his head and pushed those thoughts away. He needed to focus and did this quick. The faster he was, the sooner he could put those vexing fears to rest.

Jaqen stole swiftly several pockets. He buy two water skins, a small wooden crate, a bow and some arrows, a couple of thin sausages, some stale bread and a small piece of cheese. It wasn't good food but it wasn't rotten. He guessed that with the war still going on resources would be scarce. He managed to find some nice apples, though.

The town however didn't have a rookery, but there was one a bit far ahead. They would have to go there before leaving for Braavos.

Jaqen returned to Vyolet and was relieved to see her still where he had left her. She was sitting on the ground, her back against a tree and Meralian asleep on her lap while her mother pet her. Jaqen changed his face back to the Lorathi, not wanting to startle Vyolet.

When she saw Jaqen approaching she smiled brightly. The man felt a jolt of happiness, seeing her face lighting up again, after all they been through. Lighting up at the sight of him. Well, a man reasoned. He couldn't helped these thoughts after all, but they weren't his, they were the Lorathi's. Nothing more.

"Everything alright?" He asked her, kneeling beside her.

Vyolet nodded softly, to not startle the sleeping dragon.

"You?"

"Yes. But a man still needs to send a message. There's a rookery down the road. Shouldn't be far."

Vyolet nodded again.

"Alright."

"I brought food," Jaqen told her pulling out the piece of cheese and bread and shared it with her. "Eat some before we leave so we don't have to make more stops."

Vyolet took it, before patting the spot next to her. A man watched the spot before obliging and sitting next to her. She is just being nice, he reminded himself. She has always been with the people close to her.

Jaqen then passed her one of the water skins. The girl looked at him as he took a sip of his.

"Is that water or ale?" She asked.

"Ale."

"Can I have some?"

Jaqen turned to her, a smirk peaking off. She hadn't complain once since they left Harrenhal despite them sleeping on the ground or eating bad food but her tastes were still of a high born lady, even if she tried to hide it.

"You're not going to like it," he warned her.

Vyolet shrugged, smiling.

"Can't be worse than that foul wine that Yoren used to drink."

Jaqen bowed his head, conceding her that and handed her his water skin. Vyolet grabbed it and took a sip of ale. Immediately the drink burnt her throat and a foul taste invaded her mouth.

"I stand corrected. It is disgusting," said Vyolet coughing. But she took another swing.

Jaqen chuckled, watching her amused. After the third sip, he took away the water skin.

"I think that's enough, lovely girl. A man cannot manage a drunk girl while hiding a dragon."

"I'm not near to be drunk," Vyolet protested, nudging Jaqen.

The man buffed and gave her a look.

"A man will not forget this abuse," he said with a smirk.

Vyolet chuckled slightly.

He felt her more than heard her, her arm resting against his, shaking slightly with her laugh. Jaqen couldn't help smiling. Vyolet then leaned her head and rested it on his shoulder, biting onto her piece of bread.

This close to her, Jaqen could smell the scent of rose water still in her hair. It wouldn't take long for that smell to disappeared he thought, contemplating the road they had ahead of them. At least until they reached Saltspan. So he indulged in it, thinking he wouldn't have that fresh sweet smell again, even if Vyolet had the opportunity to take such a luxurious bath again. Because she was to be his apprentice. The Lorathi may had been lusting after her, but a man was to become her master. And she trusted him. He wouldn't break that trust, wouldn't cross that line. It would only hurt her and their friendship.

They ate together in pleasant silence. Jaqen enjoyed this meal much more than the ones in the underground temple. Yes they had had rich meats and fine wines, and soft comfortable chairs, instead of a tree, stale bread and cheap ale, but this time he hadn't to be alert, to have his guard up every step up the way, analyzing each bite. He just relaxed for a few moments, feeling the refreshing breeze, hearing the small noises in the woods along with the soft hiss of the dragon and Vyolet's breathing.

When he looked down at her, he noticed she had finished eating and was now looking ahead. Her hand still petting Meralian.

"Is a girl alright?" He asked her, watching her closely. "She seems too pensive."

Vyolet smirked softly and looked up at him. Her chin now rested on his shoulder, her face too close to his. Too close to his peace of mind.

"It's that a bad thing?"

Jaqen smiled but didn't say nothing. Her eyes didn't look sad, and he face was relaxed. Her cheeks were rosy probably because of the sun and her pinks lips were shining and opened ever so slightly.

"I just... I'm thinking about what Vaesa and Laedor said," said Vyolet, biting her lip.

Jaqen looked up, chiding himself once again.

"About the prophecy?" He asked. "About the prince that was promised?"

Vyolet nodded, moving her face away from his shoulder. Jaqen both was thankful and regretful of the lost contact.

"Have you heard about that?"

"A man has," Jaqen replied. "Does a girl thinks she's the one meant to bring the light back?"

"No, not at all," Vyolet replied. She didn't lie. "But... they did mention a war. Another one."

"Prophecies are a very tricky thing, lovely girl," Jaqen replied, shrugging. "You can try to interpret them, but a girl should not accept them as truth."

Vyolet nodded and looked ahead at her horse. The blade without hilt was tied to the saddle, shining under the sun. Jaqen followed her gaze.

"We should get a hilt for this sword," he said. "It's a very fine blade. It would be a shame if it goes to waste."

Vyolet agreed and they remained in silence as Jaqen finished eating. He was about to stand up when Vyolet turned to him again.

"Jaqen, I know we're going to Braavos, but where are we going exactly?"

The man turned to her and saw it was just plain curiosity.

"A girl doesn't need to worry," he said. "She'll see when we get there."

Vyolet pouted and for a moment she looked younger than she was.

"Come on," she said. "Can't you tell me anything?"

He looked at her pleading eyes and sighed, thinking of what he could disclose for now.

"It is called the House of Black and White."

Vyolet rose an eyebrow.

"Sounds ominous. Why it is called that?"

"A girl would see."

"And what would my training would be?" She asked with a bright smile. "Would I be able to change my face like you?"

"Only when you become a master, lovely girl," Jaqen replied, smiling at her enthusiasm. "There's a long road ahead of you."

"That's alright. I'm not afraid," she replied firmly.

Jaqen smiled at that.

"A man knows you're not. That's one of the reasons why he chose you."

Vyolet grinned brightly.

"Really? What are other reasons?"

Jaqen didn't reply. His smile turned into a smirk and he pulled an apple out of his bag and handled it to her.

"A man would keep that for himself."

...

They were back in the road twenty minutes later. Meralian was not happy with the cage but didn't try to destroy it. They rode through the forest until they passed the town Jaqen had purchased their supplies and reached the next village. It was bigger and it was closer to Casterly Rock so Vyolet kept her hood up.

Jaqen went to a smithery to get Vyolet's sword a proper hilt. Then, he found a rookery and sent a message to his master. He informed him of his trip until now and that he would be bringing a live dragon as well.

Meanwhile, Vyolet went to get some clothes. The dress she was wearing was thick enough for the cooling weather as well as her cloak, but her slippers would be torn to pieces. Vyolet get some grey thick pants that were a bit short on her legs, but she preferred that to some larger ones that would be falling off her. She also got some thick leather boots, two pair of gloves for her and Jaqen, and asked the seller help to cut her dress. The piece of clothing was beautiful but impractical for camping on the outside, riding horses and even worse for fighting. The man, with a dagger cut off two feet of her hem and then made a cut on her side so she could move freely. The man didn't charged her extra since she let him keep the extra cloth.

After the man was done, Vyolet walked to the smithery. They were done with the fire sword. It was nothing fancy. They didn't have the time nor money to pay for something grander. Vyolet paid the men and dragged her horse to the rookery. She tried to walk on busy streets. It was harder to notice her with other people shouting and running around.

Vyolet reached the rookery and saw Jaqen's horse tied on the side. The girl brought her horse next to his, keeping an eye on both.

Then, laughs startled her. They were several men laughing and shouting and her worse fears confirmed when they approached the rookery. They were Lannister soldiers. Vyolet hide quickly behind the two horses, but keeping an eye on the men. A couple of them were riding horses, others were drinking, and a couple yelled some vile things to a couple of girls passing by. But they all grew quiet when a man came out of the rookery, a piece of parchment on his hand.

He approached one of the men.

"They're all here?" He asked.

The other man shook his head.

"Got some still at the Inn."

"Gather the rest," the man with the piece of paper, who seemed to be in charge said. "We have to part for Caerlight right now. I just received confirmation by Lord Tywin. We'll regroup and change armors in the woods. He doesn't want anyone identifying us."

A soldier brought the captain's horse and he mounted. The captain left the village with the Lannister soldiers while the other men ran back, probably to get the others.

Vyolet could barely breathe her mind racing. They were going to Caerlight on Tywin's orders. Only her family lived there, why would Tywin want with them? But she knew. Her gut told her. An entire company, with Tywin's orders were marching to her home. And Tywin didn't want anyone knowing it was Lannister men.

"Vyolet?"

Jaqen's voice startled. He was looking at her confused but that just sprung her into action.

"Let's go, Jaqen," said Vyolet and mounted her horse. Jaqen just looked at her startled when Vyolet rode away. He would catch up, she thought as she pressed the horse into a full gallop. She couldn't go straight ahead without running into the soldiers, so she would have to go west first.

"Vyolet! Vyolet!" Jaqen was catching up with her. When he reached her and they were head to head, he reached over and took a hold of her reins. Jaqen made her horse to a halt, and if it weren't for her many years riding, the horse would have thrown her off it.

"What has gotten onto a girl's head?" Jaqen spat once they had both stopped. He gave her a look as if she had lost her mind.

"I overheard some Lannister soldiers," Vyolet quickly explained. "They're marching right now towards Caerlight! My home! They're attacking my mother! We need to go!"

But Jaqen didn't let go of her reins.

"They're too many, but I can get there first...!"

"Lovely girl..."

"I know a route that is faster, especially with just two horses..."

"Vyolet."

"What?"

She looked up to him exasperated but stopped when she saw his face. His jaw was set tightly and his eyes were cold.

"We need to leave for Braavos. Now," said Jaqen. "We had lost too much time as it is."

Vyolet blinked, looking at him as if he had just hit her.

"They were talking about attacking my mother!" She snapped.

His face didn't change in the lightest.

"A man knows. But it's not important."

Vyolet glared at him.

"It's not important? It's my family!"

"A man helped a girl escape," Jaqen reminded her harshly. "He took her and her friends to safety. He helped her with the Assahai priests. She made a promise. Now she must fulfill her part."

Vyolet gave her an exasperated but pleading look.

"I want to go to Braavos with you, Jaqen, but we can go to Caerlight first! Please Jaqen, I need your help."

His face didn't change. His eyes didn't give anything away.

"A girl must make a choice. She either leaves to her home or she leaves with a man. Both are not possible."

"Jaqen..."

"Good bye, lovely girl."

He let go of her reigns and grabbed his. Before he could turn away she snapped at him:

"Is that it?"

Jaqen gave her a cold look.

"I've helped a girl many times already..."

"Because we're friends. Or I thought we were."

Vyolet was angry but she was also desperate. Her family was in danger and there wasn't time to waste, but she didn't want to lose Jaqen. She knew that if he leave her now, she wouldn't see him again.

"I will go with you," Vyolet continued. "I swear by all the gods, the new and old. Just please, please. It's my mother. Help me with this."

Jaqen's face remained unmoved.

"A girl already knows the answer."

She could scream right now. Scream and hit him and call him names. She thought there was more between them than just a contract. He had helped her in Harrenhal so many times. He had looked after her, cared for her... Or so she thought. She had noticed a couple of times the looks he gave her, but she had been wrong. Apparently there had never been anything, not even a friendship between them. Well, he did say he was no one, a voice reminded her. And how could someone like that care?

Vyolet rose her chin. She would not beg him anymore.

"Fine then. Goodbye Jaqen H'ghar... or whoever you are. I wish you luck in life."

And with that she looked ahead and kicked her horse into a run again. And she didn't look behind. Not once.

* * *

Meralith Lannister was about to actually break down. For one, her husband has just died. The man she had grown to love had been thrown off his horse in a hunting accident and hadn't survived. Now, Meralith was left alone with her three children, all who were mourning heavily the loss of their father. But that wasn't all. No, for the gods wasn't enough her heartbreak. They also brought with them Tywin Lannister, Robert Baratheon, Cersei and her little brat Joffrey, all coming to pay their respects to her husband.

They thought they were being kind. That they were coming to help a widowed mother but they were just wreaking havoc on her nerves.

Meralith was terrified that Robert or Tywin would catch a glimpse of Targaryen in Vyolet. Meralith had not forgotten how that monster the Mountain had slaughtered Elia Martell and her children by Tywin's order. Or how Robert still wanted Targaryen blood even if they were just children, far away in Essos.

The King arrived around noon. And Meralith and her family stood on their castle's courtyard as the royal procession entered, preceded by the royal house-cart.

Next to Meralith was Vyolet, now seven years-old. She was still wild and unpredictable at times, but the death of her father had sobered her up. She had been a great help to her mother these past days and had taken care of her siblings. Even now, Vyolet stood still. Her back perfectly straight, her face gentle and soft as the high born lady her mother had desperately to raise her as.

Next to her was her brother, Korban. He was standing also too somber for a six-year old. And their nurse, standing next to them, carrying a fussing one-year old, Kaerla.

As soon as King Robert entered the courtyard, Meralith, her children and the castle's guard all bowed down to him.

Robert surrounded the royal house-cart

His guards rushed him to help him out of his horse but he shushed them away angrily. King Robert wasn't the warrior Meralith remembered. His body was growing large and his eyes didn't have the same fire he once had. He climbed down his horse difficulty but he managed to land gracefully. He then walked to Meralith who was still coursing.

"Your grace," said she, looking up at the kind.

Robert looked down at the woman indifferently and then extended a hand to help her up. Meralith took the offered hand and she rose, along with the rest of her household.

"My lady, I regret for us to meet under these circumstances," Robert said seriously.

Meralith bowed her head, knowing there was no love lost between Robert and her family, but still she smiled.

"Thank you, your grace."

Cersei had just came out of the house-cart along with her children and her ladies in waiting. She approached her husband and stood in front of Meralith.

"Cousin, are you and your children well?" She asked.

Meralith nodded politely and the moment she had feared just came up.

"They are, your grace," Meralith replied. "Thank you."

Both Robert and Cersei turned to her children. Meralith saw Robert staring at Vyolet and she felt her heart racing a mile.

"My daughter, Vyolet," Meralith said weakly.

"A pretty young lady," Cersei replied with a smile.

Vyolet smiled at the king and the queen nervously.

"She looks like her mother," Robert finally said looking at Korban and Meralith could finally breathe.

"And you?" Robert asked. "What's your name?"

"Korban, your grace."

Robert nodded and then looked at the drooling baby on the nurse's arms.

"That's Kaerla, your grace," Meralith responded.

"It's a pity your children lost their father this young," Robert replied, and then turned to Meralian. "If you ever need something, don't doubt on reaching to my wife."

Meralith bowed her head.

"Thank you, your grace you're very generous."

"Has my father arrived?" Cersei asked Meralith then. The woman shook her head.

"Not yet, but please, your grace. Come on in."

Meralith leaded the king and queen inside the house. She noticed Vyolet and Korban had stayed back and were talking to a Gold Cloak. She approached them and saw Jamie Lannister smiling at them.

"... such strong warrior," Jamie told Korban with a smile. "You will grew up taller than me. And such pretty flower," he added smiling at Vyolet. "Your brother would have to fight off all the suitors you'll have."

"I can fight them off myself," Vyolet replied proudly. "Master Irreo says I'm getting stronger."

"Master Irreo?" Jamie asked confused.

"My water-dancing master," Vyolet replied excitedly.

"Children," Meralith intervened quickly. "Why don't you show your cousins the gardens? I'm sure you can play together."

Vyolet and Korban glanced at Joffrey and Myrcella and then turned to their mother with unhappy faces. Myrcella was just four and had her nurses firmly held by the hand, and Joffrey was looking at them with an annoying superior smile. But they obeyed anyway.

Vyolet and Korban went to their cousins as Jamie turned to Meralith with a rose eyebrow.

"Is Vyolet really learning to fight?"

Meralith let a small chuckle and shook her head.

"Of course not. The lessons are for Korban, but she's just a wild child she wanted to learn. I let her once in hopes she would hate it, but now it's all she can think of," Meralith lied shaking her head.

Jamie smiled at her.

"Don't worry. Once she's older, vanity would get her, and she'll forget about fighting. Cersei was just like her at her age and look at her now."

Meralith smiled politely, taking Jamie's offering arm. She prayed to all the new and old gods for her daughter Vyolet to never be like Cersei Lannister.

* * *

He followed her of course. After all the time he had wasted in Westeros he couldn't show up to the House empty-handed. He had never failed a mission and he wouldn't start now. But now a complication had surged. He had a choice to make but he didn't like his options. The best would have been for him to leave with a wiling Vyolet and the dragon. That was what his master was hoping for, but that couldn't be now. He knew Vyolet. He knew she could be as stubborn as a mule and wouldn't stop until reaching her home and killing the men who had threatened her family. But there was a high chance she wouldn't succeed and would die. There were too many for her, and her dragon's flame was too small to kill more than two men at a time. And Vyolet wasn't also in her right mind. She had never trained for these situations. What drive her was her emotions and those same emotions would get her killed. Valar Morghulis, he told himself, but his heart clenched at the thought. He had changed his face but those feelings were there still, to his annoyance. The Lorathi's feelings that urged him to follow her and kill her enemies, give her what her heart desired. But those feelings were not his. He was no one. And no one didn't care if the girl lived or died. He wanted her alive to come to the House and became a soldier for the Many-Faced God but that was it. That was what must be. So now, pushing those foreign feelings to the back of his mind he had to decide. He could follow Vyolet. Knock her out cold and bring her against her will to Braavos, but that presented many problems along his way. She wouldn't go without a fight and Meralian liked him, but he wasn't so sure she wouldn't try to burn him if he kidnapped her mother. The second option was the most sensible. While Vyolet sneaked up onto the men, Jaqen would steal her dragon. He would let her know it was him and would give her the means to follow if she survived. If the girl died he would still deliver a living dragon to his master. If the girl lived then it would prove he had been right to recruit her as a faceless man.

* * *

It was a sunny day. Not too hot and there was a nice fresh breeze. Meralith would have enjoyed it thoroughly if not for the presence of her family, the king and his court on her home.

As Meralith sat on the gardens, on a sewing circle with the queen and her maids, she couldn't help but throw nervous glances at her children playing in the garden.

"Vyolet is growing to be a very beautiful girl, cousin," Cersei told Meralith with a smile. Her voice was sweet and sound genuine, but Meralith new better than to trust appearances with this woman.

"It is, your grace," Meralith replied with a grateful nod. "And very intelligent. I thank the Gods every day for my good fortune."

"On the contrary, cousin," said Cersei placing the napkin she was sewing down and reaching for her cup of wine. "You should pray to them for her to become a fool."

Meralith stared at Cersei, weighting on her words and then glanced at Vyolet. Normally Vyolet would have been forced to join the sewing circle. It was important for her to act like a lady now that she was seven, but Meralith didn't want her close to the queen, fearful she would see the Targaryen in her. So she excused Vyolet, saying she needed to distract herself from her loss, and let her run with her brother in the gardens.

The king had left with Tywin and Jaime to go hunting and Joffrey had joined them. They had asked Korban to go as well but the little boy was still too sad about his father's death and didn't want to be with Joffrey. So was excused and stayed back with Vyolet.

The kids scurried away and went to the courtyard were the stables were to practice with the bow. Vyolet had been teaching her brother to use it, and was getting better.

"Now straighten your arm a bit more," the girl instructed the little boy who was struggling with pulling the string of the bow without bending his arms. Korben obeyed her sister and shot. The arrow hit a few inches above the mark.

Korben smiled happily and Vyolet patted his back.

"There you go! You're getting much better!"

"What are you talking about? That's a pathetic shot!" A voiced interrupted them and when the kids turned, they saw Joffrey. The little boy was alone, leaning against one of the walls. Sandor Clegane, his protector was nowhere around.

"No wonder you are shit shooting with a stupid girl teaching you," Joffrey kept going.

Vyolet glared at Joffrey but before she could answer Korban shouted back.

"I bet she shoot better than you!"

Joffrey's smile disappeared and he stomped to them.

"Oh, please!" He grabbed the bow Korban was holding and an arrow from his quiver. Joffrey shot and the arrow hit the bull's eye but barely. Joffrey turned to them with a smirk.

"And how's that you shot an arrow little girls," he gloated.

Vyolet raised an eyebrow and snatched the bow from him. Joffrey lost his foot at the movement and stumbled. As Vyolet grabbed an arrow he shot her a glare. Vyolet's shot was fast. It hit the bull's eye just in the middle.

Korban burst out laughing and Joffrey's face turned red. He glared at Vyolet as she smirked down at him.

"It was a lucky shot!" Joffrey cried.

"Move the bull's eye farther away or move it higher, I'll still hit it. I'm not so sure about you, cousin," Vyolet shot back.

Joffrey glared at her for a long minute before his grimace turned into an evil smile.

"I have a better idea," said the Joffrey. "Let's go."

And he turned around, walking to the door of the courtyard that led to the back gardens, the woods and the river. Vyolet and Korban exchange a look.

Joffrey noticed his cousins weren't following, and turned around glaring at them.

"I said, LET'S GO!" He yelled.

Vyolet sighed and nodded at Korban following Joffrey outside.

Before walking through the door, Joffrey grabbed a small apple from a bag, probably for the horses.

They walked along the riverside until Joffrey found a rock. The boy put the apple on his pocket and knelt dragging a large rock to the edge of the river, but it was too heavy for him. He turned around and looked at Korban.

"Help me move this rock near the river," Joffrey told him. Korban exchanged a look with Vyolet who shrugged her shoulders. Korban sighed and reluctantly joined Joffrey.

Korban did most of the job dragging the stone. Joffrey even stood up and walked to Vyolet.

"Now move it to the left!"

Korban turned around and looked at Joffrey angrily.

"I'm doing all the work!" He protested.

Joffrey stopped smiling and glared at him again. Moving quickly, he took the bow from Vyolet's hand and an arrow from the quiver. In an instant he was pointing the arrow at Korban who froze, staring at the bow scared.

"I said move it!" Joffrey yelled.

"Joffrey!"

Vyolet tried to grab the bow, but Joffrey stepped away, pointing at her now.

"Uh, uh. You don't want me to shot my arrow by accident, don't you Vyolet? I may shot you," the prince sneered.

Rage and hate flooded the little girl's body as she stare at the sharp arrow.

Korban paled and quickly move the stone, not wanting his cousin to shoot Vyolet.

"Give him the apple now!" Joffrey ordered Vyolet turning, pointing again to Korban.

"Joffrey, please..."

Joffrey turned his head to the girl.

"I said, GIVE HIM THE FUCKING APPLE!"

Vyolet jumped at his shout and quickly approached Joffrey, pulling the apple from his pocket. Vyolet ran to Korban and gave him the apple.

Joffrey nodded at Korban, who stood up.

"Put it on your head!"

Korban obeyed hesitantly. Vyolet's heart dropped to her knees, already guessing what the little devil was thinking of doing. He confirmed her thoughts out loud.

"Now, I shall shot the apple off your head!"

"Joffrey, don't please!" She begged him. Every second the prince was scaring her to death.

"Keep distracting me brat, and I'll shoot your brother in the face!" Joffrey shouted again. He raised the bow, aiming. "Ready?"

Vyolet turned to her brother has started to shake, the little apple threatening to fall.

Then it all happened in a second. A boy jumped from a bush in the river and tackled Korban back, just as Joffrey shot the arrow. The arrow flew through the air where just a few seconds ago Korban's head had been and instead hit a tree trunk.

Vyolet almost fainted, thinking for a second that the arrow had hit her brother, but then he and the other boy, came out of the river, sputtering water and coughing.

"Korban! Are you alright?" Vyolet cried, running to help her brother out of the river, but Joffrey came behind her and pushed her to the water as well. With their cries, the splashing and his laugh, Joffrey didn't notice his father approaching with the rest of the hunting party, or his mother running towards him with Meralith from the gardens. He just kept laughing as Vyolet coughed water.

"You two are pathetic chicken shit!" Joffrey told them sneering, but his laugh was cut short by King Robert's booming voice:

"Joffrey!"

Joffrey actually paled as his father stopped before the river. Jamie and two of his guards dismounted quickly and jumped into the river. Jamie picked up Vyolet into his arms and crossed the river to where Joffrey was standing. The other guards picked Korban and the other boy and took them out the river two.

Vyolet was completely drenched and she was shaking so Jamie rubbed her back soothingly as the King crossed the river.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Robert asked his son, stopping in front of him and dismounting.

Joffrey shook his head, speechless.

"Father..."

"Vyolet!" Meralith and Cersei had finally reached them. Meralith practically pushed Jamie away as she took her daughter in her arms, checking her over.

"Are you alright sweetheart? Are you hurt?" She asked Vyolet and then knelt next to Korban checking him as well without letting go of her daughter.

Robert watched the exchange and then turned to his son.

"How dare you shot at your cousin in his own home?!"

Joffrey shook his head again.

"We were just playing, father..."

Cersei quickly intervened, placing a hand on Robert's arm.

"My love, please..."

But King Robert shook Cersei off and slapped Joffrey so hard, he knocked the little boy down.

"Don't ever touch your cousins ever again, do you hear me?! Now get out of my sight!"

Cersei quickly picked up his son, and glaring at Robert she stomped away, Jamie following her closely.

Robert still fuming, looked down and found Vyolet's eyes on him. His frown softened.

"I apologize, sweetheart. And to you, lady Meralith. You have received us with hospitality during a hard time and we haven't acted accordingly. I shall repay it."

Meralith who was as pale as her children bowed her head.

"Thank you, your grace. It's not necessary."

"I insist," Robert replied. "Now, you better go and change these two before they catch a cold."

Meralith bowed her head and rose to her feet, carrying Vyolet, the little girl still clinging to her neck. Korban stood up and took her mother's offering hand.

Before leaving, Meralith noticed the little boy who had saved her son. He was probably one of the servants. He didn't look older than Vyolet.

"Boy, come here," she told him.

The boy obeyed, a bit scared.

"Mi lady?"

"If you haven't pushed my son out of the way, we would be having another funeral. Thank you."

The boy just nodded.

"I'll give you gold and a warm supper," said Meralith to the little boy whose eyes opened wide. "What is your name boy?"

"Ellion."

Meralith bowed her head.

"Thank you, Ellion."

She turned around and walked to the castle taking her children with her.

Vyolet looked at her and shook her shoulders, crying:

"Mother! Mother!"

No, wait. It wasn't Vyolet, it was...

"Mother!"

Meralith woke up with a jump. Disoriented she looked around noticing she had fallen asleep next to her window again and Korban had shaken her awake. Kaerla, her younger daughter was there as well, pale and scared.

"Korban. What is happening?" The startled woman asked.

"They're attacking the castle, Mother!" Korban replied. "They're slaughtering the guards!"

* * *

Vyolet took longer than expected. She knew these lands like the back of her hand but there were two companies of soldiers she had to avoid, which forced her to take a longer route.

Finally, she arrived to the woods surrounding Cairlight, but it was getting dark, the sun setting on her behind her. She knew the soldiers would come marching north to avoid the main road, like coward dogs, Vyolet thought angrily as she was forced to go west.

The girl had to stop pretty far away from the castle, since she could risk being heard by the soldiers. Her intentions had been stormed into the castle and tell everyone to run. But as she rode to Cairlight, the air cool down her head long enough to realize it was a terrible idea. Knowing Tywin as she did, he probably had spies already inside the castle. She didn't want to give anyone the opportunity to slay her family before reaching them.

Vyolet dismounted the horse and tied it on a tree between tall bushes. Meralian hissed on her cage but Vyolet shushed her.

"Easy, girl. I'll return for you I promise. Don't make noise," Vyolet said before pulling up her hood and running towards the castle.

Vyolet tried to run as silently and quickly as possible, using the trees and bushes to hide herself.

Luckily, she didn't came across Tywin's soldiers and reached the wall around Cairlight without being spotted. Vyolet ran along until she found a door that lead to one of the courtyards but it was locked. Vyolet pushed against it and tried to pick the lock with the silver dagger Jaqen had gave her but the door wouldn't bulge. Cursing under her breath, Vyolet grabbed her skirts and ran back to her horse. She needed Meralian.

...

Vyolet returned to her horse as quickly and silently as possible. She went to grab her tiny dragon and the rest of her weapons. She would need them, even if it wasn't so easy to move around with them. But as she approached the horse covered in bushes, Vyolet's heart sank to her knees. Meralian's cage was open and the dragon was gone. For a second Vyolet thought the dragon had escaped, she even looked around the trees and sky looking for her, but then it downed that cage wasn't burnt nor broke, it was just opened. Someone had taken her and she knew who as she approached and saw the coin lying on the cage. It was an identical coin to the one Jaqen had gave Arya before leaving.


End file.
